Vying For The Affection Of Their Child
by a mountain of gideon's scones
Summary: Making mistakes result in consequences Amelie has always desired - yet it's with the wrong person. When their daughter, Claire, returns to town, is the mistake of fighting for her made? Or can Amelie work with Oliver to keep Claire onside -and know her?AU
1. Chapter 1

**I got this idea a while ago, and now I have a** _**little**_** free time before my next lot of exams, I decided to write it.**

**I don't own anything.**

**Thanks to twinut09 for helping me by letting me thrash out some ideas with her :P**

**Enjoy!**

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_Amelie's POV:_

I pushed Sam away. I pushed him further away than I could possibly admit, too many years ago. It pains me to remember that this is the thirtieth anniversary of my leaving him, telling him that I didn't love him and I couldn't be with him.

I have never felt so alone.

"Ma'am, you have a visitor," Verity, my maid for this evening, says as I allow her to enter the room. I frown slightly – I wasn't expecting anybody – as nobody visits me without an appointment, ever.

"Did they leave a name, or are you currently expecting me to be physic and know just _who_ this visitor is?" I ask bitingly, rather too rude than I would normally be due to the stress of this being the anniversary of me leaving Samuel.

"Erm… he said his name was Oliver, ma'am," she says, causing a shiver of fear to rush through me. I have only ever known one Oliver… surely it can't be him? I know the name of _every_ vampire and human in this child and I know that there is _nobody_ called Oliver. It must be him.

"Send him in," I order coolly, not sure how this meeting will go. After all, it has been centuries. I sent him away from me centuries ago but when I sent my guards out to track him down, to make him come to Morganville, they returned in body bags. That didn't particularly make me inclined to believe that he wanted to come to Morganville, but apparently here he is.

"Amelie, it's been centuries!" he exclaims as he enters, his arms thrown wide open in greeting. I stand to greet him and he bows, kissing my hand as it was customary to in the days when we knew one another.

I suppose it was a sense of love that we shared, all those years ago. Then again, I would have called it hate as well. It was a love-hate relationship, until he tried to overthrow me from my position in England and I sent him away from me.

"I know… that was for a _reason_," I state, inflicting no emotion in my voice as I speak. "Incase you have forgotten, you tried to-"

"Overthrow you from your position and steal your power, yes, yes, I remember," he says cheerfully, sitting down on the couch next to me. I smile at his brashness but he seems to take the smile as meaning something else, something else entirely. "Amelie, I have missed you so much. I hope you can forgive me for my hasty and rash judgements that caused me to act so inexcusably," he presses, looking at me deep in the eye.

In this moment, I see why I loved him then. I see the sincerity in his beautiful eyes and want to jump into his arms to feel his perfect lips on mine once again. I see his perfect face, the exact same as it was many years ago, and I want to touch it again…

I love Samuel, but I need someone right now. If he, Oliver, feels the same as me, I should 'take the plunge' and kiss him. I want to be held by someone, to feel someone beneath me… I want to be close to someone right now. After all, I can always send Oliver away from town, can't I?

"Oliver, what do you feel for me?" I ask him suddenly, deciding to jump in and ask him straight, so I can feel relaxed so much quicker than playing subtly.

"I still love you, Amelie, as I always have done," he whispers, looking down at his knees. He is here. He is in love with me, and I think I can use that. I do care for Samuel, of course I do, but this is… how do they say it nowadays? It is no strings attached – I can use him to feel close to someone on this fateful day before discarding him, pushing him out of Morganville once again.

Without realising it consciously, my hand snakes out and lifts his chin up so that he is looking at me. I do not know what emotions my face is betraying, but he looks slightly shocked… and something else.

"Oliver… I need you," I betray the emotion inside of me, the part of me that hates being alone, especially on the anniversary of the event that _made_ me be alone.

Before I realise it, I am kissing him, pressing my lips to his in a way that shows how much I need this. I wrap my fingers into his long hair, which has been twisted back, and he does the same, making sure that my hair is mussed up with intensity. I move closer to him and move at lightning speed to wrap my legs around him, pushing him backwards onto the sofa to lie flat.

"Amelie… what are you doing?" he asks me inbetween kisses, his hands moving over my back. I smile at him but don't answer, simply keep kissing him and enjoying the moment. It helps me forget… but not enough.

I wrench myself upright and pull him up with me within a second, moving at utmost speed.

"I want you," I say simply, shrugging my shoulders slightly. I cannot believe that I am doing this but I need to forget Samuel entirely and this is the only way I can think of, doing the one thing that I never did with him… either of them, before.

"I can see that… but why now?" he presses, pulling me closer to his chest. I relax against him, smiling as I process the question in my mind.

"You have just returned to me after centuries of the love between us being severed; are you really questioning why I want to do this?" I say, with disbelief in my voice. I suppose what I have said is true – but the love I have for Samuel overthrows Oliver's by a mile. Yet it is enough to forget…

"I suppose not," he shrugs his shoulders before kissing me again, passionately. I respond, allowing him entry into my mouth as my hands begin to remove the shirt he is wearing. The buttons annoy me, however, so I rip it apart to shreds, the noise reverberating around the room before I refocus on Oliver.

"Where?" he murmurs against my lips as I look at the planes of his chest; not as good as…

"My bedroom – this way," I interrupt my thoughts by acting rashly, pulling Oliver by his hand to the door in the corner of the room, the one that takes me into my bedroom. I open the door and reveal the four poster bed inside, the one that has been made to 90degree angles by my maids but shall be soon mussed up…

He pulls me into the room and I allow him to, not bothered about control. If he tried anything, I could destroy him in a flash. But this is what I want, so why not let him think he has control here, when in fact I didn't even particularly _want_ this?

He begins to remove my dress and I smile, wriggling so it is easier to slip off.

_Oh look, Samuel, you have been replaced. I don't need you anymore… so stop making me pine for you…_

OoOo

I roll my eyes as Oliver rolls over in the bed, deeply asleep. What was I _thinking_? I hate the man, for what he did to me all those years ago. I cannot believe that I took things as far as I have done, taking him to my _bed_… something which I didn't even do with someone I truly love!

I cannot believe that I have _slept _with him! I know that I was pining for Samuel and wanted to do something to forget him, but this was too far. I wish I hadn't have done it, but I have done.

"Amelie," he says suddenly – I thought he was asleep! He reaches over for a kiss but I shake my head and move out of the way, getting out of the bed entirely. He almost falls flat on his face, which he would have if he didn't have vampire reflexes. "Wait… what is going on?"

I shake my head again as I pull on the brown silk dress that I had removed only hours ago. Once I am dressed, the zipper snapped up in place with a large 'snap', I tie my hair back in a tight bun and motion for him to get up.

"Get ready and leave," I say simply, not elaborating any further. His eyebrows rise ridiculously high and he looks shocked at what I've said. I do admit that I sound rather harsh and disgusting, someone who I would define by the title 'lady of the night' in the olden days. However, it isn't the truth. I made a mistake doing this, just to protect my heart from Samuel and his absence.

"Excuse me?" he gags, unable to believe the order I gave him.

"I think you know what I said," I do not repeat what I said; simply tell him that what he thought he heard was the truth. "Once you have, get out of my house and get out of my town. I never want to see you again. Do you understand?"

"I thought you loved me," he says quietly, as he does as I told him to.

"I lied," I state in a tone barely louder than his. "I needed someone last night, as it was a hard night for me… but, you see, Oliver I am in love with someone as I have been for thirty plus years. All you are to me is someone who tried to destroy me years ago and just happened to be in the right place at the right time."

He shakes his head and his expression turns to anger, looking as if he wants to kill me. However, he simply gets dressed as I apply my makeup and put on some jewellery, before walking out of the room without another word.

I listen intently for him as he walks out of the house and into the sunlight before clambering into a car.

"There is a car containing a gentleman with greying hair heading towards the border," I inform the police coolly on the phone. "Let him through. I repeat, let him through and remind him that he is never to come back. Do you understand?"

The police officer agrees and I hang up the phone, breathing heavily.

What have I _done_?

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_Third person perspective…_

Amelie continues to get ready, a forced smile on her face as she struggles to forget the actions of the night before.

But what will happen when the _consequences_ of the night before catch up with her?

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**So, this story seems pretty silly at the moment, right? As if it has no storyline whatsoever? Well, my friends, that is wrong… it will be interesting and twisted and different, entirely like all my other stories :P**

**If you want to know what happens later on (but I'm sure the last line gives you some idea) and how etc, please review and I'll update soon!**

**Vicky xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: **

**So, thanks for the reviews & I hope it's going to be a good story!**

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_Amelie's POV: (three weeks later)_

I wipe my mouth delicately, now I have managed to finish throwing up, in a most unladylike manner, into the toilet.

"What is _wrong _with me?" I mutter to myself, remembering the other times I have suffered with this sickness. Three times in a week isn't normal. Even once a _month_ isn't normal – but perhaps there is a reason for it. I shall have to have Theo Goldman come over later, to see if he can diagnose what is wrong with me…if this is an effect of the disease, then God help me…

Once I threw Oliver out of Morganville, I tried to appease my conscience by seeing Sam. This, however, backfired when the guilt of my actions hit me when I saw him: I really understood then that I had cheated on our love, for although we may not physically be together, our hearts are. I couldn't see him again, after this realisation, and I broke his heart even more by pushing myself further away from him than before. I cannot believe that I did what I did – with _Oliver_! The person makes it even more despicable… yet I cannot change the past now, no matter how much I wish it different.

"Ma'am, Samuel Glass would like to see you," Verity says, poking her head around the door into the bathroom. I jump, startled that she would enter without knocking, and turn to face her with an extremely annoyed expression on my face. "What would you like me to say?" she continues; I do not know why I hired this girl. She is more incompetent than I could ever have imagined!

"What do you _think_ I am going to say?" I rhetorically ask, exasperated by her. "As it has been every other time you have asked me that in the last _week_, NO!" I yell at her, watching her as she walks out of the marble bathroom and rejoins the rest of the house.

Once she has gone, I lean my head back against the pewter coloured sink and run my fingers through my hair. What is _wrong_ with me? I have all these mood swings – more than usual – and I cannot stop being sick. I need more blood than usual, as well as actually _needing_ human food as well… normally it is simply a nicety to have a Sunday roast, but it seems that every human mealtime I now crave the food!

Mustering as much dignity as possible, I walk out of my bathroom and into my lounge, bypassing the bedroom entirely. As you can possibly imagine, I haven't been spending much time in there over the past three weeks, preferring to sleep (whenever I need to… which has been far too much recently) in my lounge area than in that bed.

"Amelie, what can I do for you today?" Theo Goldman picks up on the first ring, his voice smooth and warm.

"I fear I may be sick and I need you to diagnose the issue," I say coolly, in a collected manner. I hear the confusion in his pause – vampires aren't supposed to get sick. But perhaps… perhaps I am showing the first signs of this disease that so many of the other vampires are facing… perhaps I shall have to go and see Myrnin. I haven't been by in a few weeks, and I fear that his mental capability is diminishing rapidly – soon, within the next twenty years, I doubt that he will be able to carry on living in his lab and working to find the cure.

"Certainly – when would you like me to come over?" he asks, smoothing over his confusion and anxiety in his manner. I have always liked Theo – he has been a good man and help to me over the years, and I wouldn't turn him out of my life… unlike Oliver.

"Instantly, if possible," I hesitate, knowing that he has his own life and doesn't live to please me… Theo has never been someone that I have ordered around and treat like the rest; he is a mature man, who has proved himself over the years to be a true person, and doesn't deserve to be treated in accordance to others. Verity, on the other hand… Theo doesn't need to do as I ask, as the Founder, but I hope that our friendship will show to him that I need him now.

"Certainly, I shall dust down my medical kit and be in your home momentarily, Amelie," he says in a friendly tone – I knew I could rely on Theo! "Please would you mind opening a portal because I do not have my car with me and I feel rather weak today," he asks and I agree before doing as he requested.

As promised, within minutes he is walking through the portal and into my lounge, a worried expression on his face.

"Amelie, whatever is the matter?" he asks me, sitting down opposite me. "Do you have any symptoms for me?"

"I have been sick three times in the past week," I say in a voice which is shaking slightly. His eyebrows raise – as far as I knew, vampires were unable to be sick. "My mood has been fluctuating far more frequently and quickly than normal. I need more blood, I need to eat human food constantly, and I need the toilet… I need to sleep… Theo, what is _wrong_ with me?" I break down, tears flowing. I never normally show emotion in public, but this is Theo – he isn't going to tell anybody.

He looks confused for a moment, calculating everything I have just said, before looking at me with a bemused expression. His eyes get past the tears in my eyes and he seems to be listening to something – it is that _dratted_ sound once again! I cannot describe what it is; the closest I could compare it to would be an unformed human heart, but there isn't a human within a mile radius of this house, I don't believe. It is impossible.

"You have been sick?" he confirms and I nod. "I presume it has been of the human food you have been eating much more of, recently?"

"Yes, I need to eat it three times a day; blood doesn't seem to fully satisfy me at the moment, for some strange reason, and I need much more of that as well," I explain and he nods thoughtfully, looking into a distant corner. "Theo, please answer me honestly. Am I suffering from the disease?"

He chuckles softly before shaking his head, relieving me.

"Amelie, you are not suffering the early symptoms of the disease; believe me, I wish it were that simple," he says slowly, worry creeping into his tone. "Tell me… have you been… _intimate_ with anybody recently?" he asks, as embarrassed as I am to hear it.

I do not answer, but the red blush filling my cheeks must give him my answer. How did he know? Is there some stamp on my head saying that Amelie was a whore and disgraced herself? Oh my, I am so worried now.

"I never thought I would be able to say this to a vampire," Theo is saying, his tone increduled. "Yet I am sure Myrnin shall find an explanation… Amelie, you are pregnant," he exclaims, shocking me.

WHAT?

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**What did you think?**

**I'm sure it was obvious, from the end of the last chapter, no?**

**Well, love you if you review! And get the next chapter sooner if you do! **

**I'm off to Ireland at 2:30am Tues 15th March (so tomorrow, if you're in England!) - enjoy the chapter!**

**Vicky xx**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: **

**Thanks for the reviews and everything! I hope you like the new chapter :)**

***sorry for anything relevant to Northern Irish history here; I went on an AMAZING trip to Belfast on Tuesday and I guess it's just stuck in my head, even as I write. So sorry!***

**I don't own anything!**

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_Amelie's POV:_

Pregnant. I am pregnant. For heaven's sake, I am a _vampire _- it should be impossible for me to have a child, much less one with a _heartbeat_. With a sudden flash of realisation, I conclude that the strange sound I have been hearing, that sounds like a human following me around everywhere, is the heartbeat of this child.

My face drains of any colour when I realise that this is Oliver's child.

"Amelie?" Theo says quietly, moving over to place his hand on mine. "I take it that this is a shock... Can I ask who?"

I shake my head, not wanting him to know who the father is - he has always hated Oliver for what he did to me in the past and for him to know that Oliver had returned would make the non-violent Theo _very _violent... I remember when he found out what Oliver tried to do in the past - let me simply say that the humans of the area didn't particularly enjoy his company...

"No... I cannot say," I whisper through the shock. "You would believe I was crazy; I sincerely regret my actions... But I missed Samuel... Yet that doesn't excuse what I have done - please, Theo, do not ask me. I cannot answer," my eyes squeeze shut as a tear falls out - I truly cannot believe that this has happened!

I feel Theo nodding and he pulls me into a hug, something which I only allow the people closest to me to do, people who have been instrumental in my life. Also, evidently, Oliver...

"Perhaps Myrnin could offer some explanation," Theo suggests softly - yes, he's right. Myrnin, the genius who is the most scientifically accomplished person to ever exist (unfortunately, he is suffering from the disease) could explain why this has happened. "Amelie, I'm sure it will be all fine. I'm sorry to say that I must return - it is, after all, Hanukkah," he says quietly, standing up.

"Theo, I am so sorry for tearing you away from your family on such a religious day, please forgive me," I whisper, opening my eyes to look at him. I should have remembered - I sent a card only yesterday, but the shock of being so ill made me forget.

"Don't worry about it, Amelie, Patience understood - she was cooking, anyway," Theo says kindly.

I shake my head, standing carefully: I am already so much more hypersensitive about my movements from finding out that I am pregnant. Oh, what am I going to do? "It isn't alright, Theo. Please offer my deepest condolences to Patience and your family."

"Come for dinner, Amelie," Theo pushes. "I hate to think of you here all alone: you may not celebrate Hanukkah, but for me to know of your being alone will only make me worry."

I used to celebrate Hanukkah. It was one of my traditions when I was a child, when Paganism was still deeply rooted within society although I was Christian, but it slowly fell away once I was turned. Now, I recognise it but do not celebrate it - the only events I now celebrate are Easter, Christmas (but for the religious values, not presents) and July 12th, the day that William of Orange beat James II at the Battle of the Boyne in Ireland. Since I regularly attend mass, people assume that I must have entirely disagreed with this and that I must have fought for the union of Ireland, as other Nationalists do to this day. However, James II was a monster and William brought about a certain sense of peace - for me at least. No, although the treatment of Catholics by Protestants was wrong, it is the correct thing - the Orange Order should be allowed to march... I only celebrate it because I was present at the moment when it occurred - if I wasn't, then I wouldn't still celebrate it.

"I must go and see Myrnin, but thank you for the offer," I say to him kindly, a smile in my tone. "Theo... You are a good friend - thank you."

"Not at all a problem, Amelie," he says with a smile, picking up his bag. "Good luck and if you need anything, please call. I shall, of course, keep this to myself."

I smile at him and nod in gratitude as he walks towards the portal and through it. Once he has gone, I sink onto the sofa and place my head in my hands, the tears flowing ever more so. I cannot believe this; it just isn't possible. For heaven's sake, I am a _vampire_! I am more barren than a sixty year old woman - it should be impossible for me to conceive a child, especially Oliver!

Oliver... He is going to be a Father... I am having a child with Oliver. _Urgh_! I still cannot believe I was so disgusting as to do what I did with him - I cannot say it - but to be having his _child_, that is even worse.

Myrnin: I need to go to him, to find out exactly why I have come to be pregnant as a vampire. I stand up decisively, and walk towards the portal, shaking my head to show the guards who are moving into the room to follow me that I don't need them. I don't need them to go and see Myrnin – he is still sane enough to not hurt me… at the moment, at least. His mental capabilities have diminished somewhat over the years with the disease, but I am hoping that he is sane enough at the moment to be able to answer my questions.

I walk through the portal into an unorganised library that irritates me greatly every time I see it – why he cannot keep his books on the shelves I had put up for him is beyond me!

"Amelie, what are you doing here?" Myrnin's smooth, luscious, voice comes from across the room and I see him simply lounging in a chair, reading a book. He had better be simply taking a break from finding the cure, not doing it the other way round in time proportions, because otherwise I shall _throttle_ him! He is sat with his legs spread wide, relaxed, the book in one hand and a pair of useless reading spectacles he has _never_ needed in the other.

"I… I need some help, some answers," I say slowly, assessing the situation. His eyes are entirely sane, showing no signs of the monster in him. I don't believe that he is a major risk at the moment, but I should still be careful with him around… especially pregnant. "I… I am pregnant and I don't know how."

"I am pretty sure that neither of us wishes to get into the specifics here, Amelie," he jokes with me, riling my temper greatly.

"Fool, I _know_ how it happened – I mean, I am a _vampire_, it isn't meant for me to get pregnant!" I snap, but instantly regret it. I always hate arguing with my longest friend.

He chuckles slightly before sitting up straight to look me in the eyes. "Congratulations, Amelie. I presume you haven't known long… I can take it that you haven't remembered specifics from the past, things that people said to you."

"I am over one thousand years old; I do not remember every single petty thing people have said, apparently unlike you," I say slowly, controlling my temper as best possible.

"This was more than just a petty thing, Amelie, this was what makes Oliver, no,_ every_ vampire that knows, want to be the eldest vampire in the world… actually, not Oliver, as he already has the capability although I should hope that he has died by now. No, this is _extremely_ important… although I presume you were too busy having fun pulling off her limbs at the time to have processed it."

"I haven't the faintest idea what you are talking about, so please enlighten me, Myrnin, please," I say quietly and he nods slowly, breathing heavily.

"The eldest vampire female in the world," he begins slowly, probably for dramatic emphasis. "Has certain powers. You are the eldest vampire; therefore you are also the eldest female. The reason every member of the Elder vampires cabinet that you were so keen to destroy kept changing was because the eldest was topped off by the next oldest because they wanted the position. The reason… the eldest vampire was able to procure a child: as long as it was with another vampire, male, with whom she had forged some kind of romantic connection in the past, she could conceive a human child. This child would have to be given to human parents for the child's childhood, as the vampire would find it rather difficult, even being the eldest, to resist the constant blood and such, but they would be able to be reunited after a certain period of time… usually, that didn't happen, because they were dead by that time, but you know…"

I cannot believe this. I am the eldest vampire, which therefore means that I am the vampire that can have a child with another vampire?

I chose to have that baby with _Oliver_? Of course, we had a romantic connection in the past – until he tried to kill me and take my power that is! I have hated him for so long but the one moment he returned – the true reason I shall now never know – I decided to lay claim to this and use it.

Well that is just _great_.

"Thank you, Myrnin," I say with a small smile.

"I presume that it was the young Samuel Glass, the one that you are quite obviously in love with," he incorrectly guesses. I do not say anything – the mentioning of Samuel's name renders me speechless… the fact that I have used this honour with _Oliver_ is disgusting.

"Do not presume, Myrnin, unless you know all the facts," I snap, regretting it instantly. The monster rises up suddenly in his eyes and I stand, knowing that I can beat him easily if he tries to attack me.

"Careful, Amelie, you don't want to be getting into this," he says, mostly to himself at the end. I walk backwards, quickly, my hand over my stomach to protect the child which is growing inside of me… I never knew that it would feel like this, to be expecting a child. I always wanted one – I did – but it never seemed to happen for me before my Father turned me…

"I will come back to see you again, soon, Myrnin," I say quietly, my hand grasping the doorknob. "Good luck and stay strong. May God be with you."

With that, I turn the handle and dart through the door, slamming it shut behind me. Using my mind, I lock Myrnin's lab off on the map, meaning that he cannot get anywhere now he is suffering once again. Oh Myrnin, I need you to find a cure.

I need to be able to spend time with this child…

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**What did you think? I hope you like it, especially the random thing that came to me as being the reason why she is able to be pregnant… anybody who reads Struggles With What's Right And What I Want, this is NOT the same reason! believe me… the reason in that seems to involve a lot of the physics I learnt on the day that I wrote the chapter!**

**So, yano the drill, please review otherwise I have to pm you (if you alert/fav this) and waste your time asking you to **

**Vicky xx**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

**Thanks for reviews and everything!**

**Comic relief today! Whoop – I raised loads from a sponsored silence/no phone day that my friend said I wouldn't be able to do… I proved her wrong!**

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I have to spend months in hiding. Although I rarely head out into the public, there is a difference between having the _choice_ and _having_ to stay indoors. I do not know how I will be able to put up with the four walls of this house for another eight months – I want this child, truly I do, but I shall have to spend all my time only with it.

I cannot see Samuel, even if I wanted to… unless… no, I couldn't do that, could I?

"Samuel, would you like to come over?" I ask him on the phone, acting before my brain can tell me not to. Urges from my heart want me to see him, no matter how much I feel guilt for both sleeping with Oliver and the result of this being the child, and I must have him come over… I am going to be rather devious, and use things to my advantage, hopefully procuring the lack of hatred on his behalf when he finds out about my pregnancy in the future. I may have to give my child away, so that they survive their childhood (that is the translation of what Myrnin said, out of the huge paragraph he said) but I will want them to return to Morganville sometime in the future… after all, I will need my child.

I hear the shocked silence as Samuel processes the fact that I wish to see him; he doesn't have to ring me up and annoy me greatly, like usual – I am ringing him and asking _him_ to come over here!

"Why… yes, I would," he finally responds and I smile, knowing that I am going to be doing something that I rather enjoyed last time… just with the wrong person. Oh my, that makes me sound like such a disgusting prostitute, doesn't it? Yet I do not currently care: I am pregnant, grieving for the fact that the baby is somebody who I hate's, and I need the man that I love…

"I shall set you up a portal and you can come over right now," I say and I hear that he is nodding his head – the rushing of air on the other end of the phone line gives me this impression.

"Certainly, Amelie, but why now?" he asks, and I feel a rush of anger – he is supposed to be in _love_ with me; he shouldn't be questioning why I finally wish to see him!

"Does that really matter?"

"No, it doesn't… I'll be over in a second," he finally responds after a long silence after I asked the question.

I deign not to respond, simply opening a portal as I hang up the phone for Samuel to pass through. As I wait for him, I lock the door into my lounge area so that nobody can interrupt us, as well as making sure that the door to my bedroom is open.

At long last, he appears through the portal, obviously hastily dressed. His hair is still in the 'bed head' state, tousled and entirely lovable…

"Amelie," he says my name in a voice filled with love and longing, and I indulge the same in the expression I flash at him. He moves closer into the room, once shutting the portal, and he looks at the locked door in confusion. "Why is the door locked?"

"So I can do this," I whisper, zooming over to stand mere centimetres from him. I look at him for a long moment, my grey eyes meeting his perfect azure ones, and I become entirely enthralled in him. Suddenly, I move to wrap my arms around his neck and (at a slower speed) move my lips closer and closer to his, so that if he didn't want to do it he could move away. However, he doesn't do anything but move closer to me and presses his lips softly to mine, causing a sense of frission and passion between the two of us.

This is entire different to Oliver and I – this is true love, rather than just meaningless sexual movements… this is what I wish I had waited for, or realised that I wanted before.

I only wish I didn't have the motives I do for me to be doing this.

The kiss deepens as his arms wrap around my back, pulling me into him. My hands move up to wrap into his tousled hair, drawing his head closer to mine so that I don't have to reach up as high to be able to kiss him.

"Amelie, what are you doing?" he asks inbetween kisses as one of the hands snakes down (of its own accord) to the front of his shirt and begins to unbutton it.

"What does it _look_ like I am doing?" I ask him, amazed that he could be as clueless as this… he has a child, evidently he has done this before – men are denser than I ever thought possible.

"It seems as if you are trying to remove my shirt," he states the obvious, pulling me with him onto the sofa. He sits down and I clamber into his lap before continuing to kiss him. With his hand on mine, I refrain from continuing to undo his shirt and concentrate on kissing, my mouth opening to allow his tongue inside just so that I can feel him beneath me.

"I love you," I whisper into his lips and he shakes with anticipation, with happiness that I have confessed this for the first time in almost thirty five years.

"I love you, Amelie, but why now did you decide to confess this love?" he asks, removing my mouth from his with a small touch to my face. I press my rejected head into his chest and sigh deeply, feeling the strangeness of the child inside of me but also the happiness of just being with the man that I love. I wish that I wasn't going to have to do this, but I cannot have it known by _anyone_ that Oliver came to Morganville… therefore, if Samuel ever found out about my pregnancy, he could assume it was mine. However, this means that I have to break his heart once again, doing this and then pushing him away… I am such a seductress, a fallen angel, getting what I want before pushing the man away from me.

"I need you to be close to me… for today, at least," I tack on the end but I doubt he heard; all he could focus on was the first clause… and there was a rather substantial gap between the first and the latter two.

I lift my head once again and press my lips to his, feeling no objection from him. I resume my unbuttoning of his shirt and he doesn't stop me, his hands reaching over to my dress and sliding down the zipper on the side slowly, almost as if he expects a rebuke for something so _forward_…

Here we go again…

OoOoOo

I cannot hurt him once again. It is impossible for me to do it. However, he cannot be around me and find that I have a child – after all, it would be rather awkward to explain it… a vampire having a child; you need to be as old as I or Myrnin to truly understand, I believe. Samuel never met the Elder; he doesn't have any idea of the power or potential that they held before both my father and I (individually) destroyed them all.

I need him so much; this child has shown me that I need the man that I love to be in my life, as I now have two things I adore… yet he cannot. His Grandson is merely two years old, perhaps a little less and I would _never_ allow him to stay holed up here with me and miss out on a chance to get to know him. He missed out on raising his son because I left him, meaning he became depressed, so why on earth would I allow him to miss out on seeing Michael?

Yet to let him leave me now, after I have just done the thing with him that seals a relationship (or is entirely pointless, in the case of Oliver) would be cruel… therefore I need to compel him. I shall put a lock on his memory so that if he ever finds out that I have a child in the future, this night shall come back to him… otherwise, it shall stay locked out of his memory so that he does not hurt because I left him.

I turn over and slip back under the muscular arm of the man I love, the man who is currently sleeping… I have to wake him shortly, but I shall leave him be right now. After all, I get to be close with him – why wouldn't I stay like this?

OoOo

I wrap the silk sheets around myself and gently bring the man I love back to consciousness. He looks around sleepily and smiles in the same manner as he spots my face looking at him.

"Amelie," he breathes my name, moving to kiss me. However, I manage to resist the beautiful urge and simply lock my eyes on him, sending through the compulsion that will make him forget this beautifully wonderful experience.

"I love you, but you will forget everything from this evening," I inform him, my voice shaking slightly. My hand moves down to cover my stomach, inside of which a small child (which isn't his) is already forming, a human child. How am I going to be able to bring a human up when I am a vampire?... I presume that that is one of the reasons why I have to give it up. "Unless you find out in the future that I had a child, you will not remember being with me or anything before I called you. You spent the night watching the television before going to bed, which is where you are going to go now." My voice breaks by the end and I have to wipe away tears from my eyes as they threaten to disturb my compulsion of him…

He nods slowly and gets up without a word, still acting under the compulsion as he will do until he is in bed. He dresses methodically, mechanically, and as he does the tears flow and flow and the hysteria begins. Samuel doesn't seem to hear; he simply walks out and to the portal without a word… leaving me alone…

I did what I had to do, but why do I feel worse than I did before?

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**Yeah… this will come into context etc when like present day Morganville is involved, since there will be a lovely twist in it! After all, since **_**when**_** did I do anything without there being a twist/something involved?**

**So, like, yeah, review priddy pwease if you read this :P It'd mean a lot!**

**Vicky xx**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

**I took a break from writing for a liddle time, but I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

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Time passes and I seem to grow into my pregnancy, blooming as the child inside of me grows ever larger. I no longer leave the house (besides rarely to visit Myrnin, when he is not suffering from the disease) for fear that others could see me in this state and find out the secrets of the Elders… there was a reason why I deigned to destroy them all and keep the secrets only to myself. I do not want it getting out there that I being the eldest vampire grants me powers, as well as being the eldest female meaning that I can evidently conceive a child.

So now, at nearly 8 months pregnant, I am rather bored. I have read all the books I own and have completed all the work I have to do for the next few months at least – I would like to be able to say that it is so that I can spend time with my child but this is not the case. Every day, the heartbeat grows stronger and more vibrant and I know that, for its safety, it cannot remain with me. I shall be able to, Myrnin said, have it a day or two before the adoption of it to a human family. It shall have to be a good one, perhaps with no other children so that my child is given the utmost attention in their life.

Names? I have considered this a long while and have decided that I would like to name it a name that is traditionally French, but also modern enough to have been introduced into the world… for instance, I would not expect it, if it is a girl, to be called _Anouk_, because I have never heard the name in this area of the world…

Claire? That is a strong name, meaning 'clear', and it is commonly used enough to allow her to blend into the crowd, but not common enough that it would be overused, like Emily or Jessica.

And for a boy… I would have to say… I liked the name Olivier (but I would change it to Oliver to be 'English'); however, his father would have the same name and I never want another reminder of him again. Therefore, I would have to select the name Richard or Julien… I prefer the French spelling of 'Julian' therefore I would keep it the same… but it is too early to be deciding, no? I haven't the faintest idea if it is a boy or a girl, since the ultrasound scanner does not work upon a vampire's skin, but I do not care; I will love it, I _do_ love it, either way because it is my child. It is the child I have wanted all my life… I may be unable to spend time with it during its formative years, but I am sure I can get around that by being able to be with it once it returns to Morganville when it is older.

Getting my child to return to Morganville may be a slight problem, but it is one I shall figure out how to overcome when I have lost it – it will be a chance to think about my child once it has left me, to be able to survive.

I shift positions in my chair to try and find some comfort _somehow_… yet I need the bathroom once again. So I stand and move quickly through to the bathroom, thinking how it will be both a blessing and a curse to have this baby…

_Day of birth…_

"Amelie, the problem is that if we do not deliver the baby now, then there is a strong chance that it shall become stuck," Theo tries to persuade me towards a Caesarean but I hold firm… it is unnatural and the only way I would go there is if the baby's life was in danger.

I breathe slowly and deeply through the pain, trying to find the more painful events from my life to compare it to, so that it seems nothing in comparison. However, it doesn't work so I have to take another drag of the gas Theo thankfully provided.

"I said no," I whisper through the pain, my hand clenching my stomach tightly. _Be born, child_!

"There is a strong chance that, as it is a human, it could die if you do not, Amelie," Theo, of course, _has_ to emotionally blackmail me into doing what he wants. I wasn't going to _ever_ go for a Caesarean but if there is a chance that my baby is in danger, then it has to be done…

"If that is true, then you had better do it," I sigh and he nods, not smiling because he has his own way because that would be rather insensitive, wouldn't it not? When he has just told me that there is a strong chance that I could lose my baby, it wouldn't be appropriate for him to smile at me.

"Lie back, Amelie," he motions for me to move around on the double bed I chose to have my child on; I wouldn't want to in my own room but the hidden secret room in the back of the large house I own is adequate enough. "I fear that this will hurt, but the wound will heal in mere moments, so I shall have to be quick. Are you ready?"

I nod as the latest contraction hits, barely managing to be able to remain lying down as the pain makes its way up my nervous system to my brain. However, it is nothing compared to the incision in my stomach, the one that makes me want to scream and yell ever more than I already want to, the one that I try to protect my unborn child from the attack… but I cannot. I seem to be frozen with the sheer agony of the cutting into of my skin, the knitting together already beginning to occur on the edges.

I hear Theo scrabbling to remove my child from my womb before I fully heal, before the sudden crying of a child as he cuts the umbilical cord. I cannot move as he begins to clean the child up whilst my wound heals… but there is no pain anymore; I simply cannot wait to hold my baby, to press it to my breast and be with it… I love it so much, I cannot wait to meet it.

"A girl," Theo whispers as he moves closer with my daughter, my _baby girl_! I smile with joy as the wound heals entirely, allowing me to sit upright on the blood soaked sheets, and I take her into my arms. "Careful, Amelie, you need blood," he reminds me cautiously, but the blood of my baby – of me – doesn't bother me… it smells rather sweet but in a way that makes you want to relax and become tranquil; it doesn't make me want to attack her.

"Theo, smell her; she doesn't make you want her blood," I say with a song in my voice, my eyes focusing on hers. Her's are as dark as mine are light, being a chocolate brown colour, rich and warm. Her hair is thick and a matching colour to her eyes; she looks nothing like me whatsoever, perhaps for her facial features and bone structure… I don't care, however; she is mine and always will be.

"I see your point," he consentingly admits before moving away to fetch me some blood.

"Hello, my little Claire," I whisper into her face, a fingertip resting lightly on her delicate nose. She gurgles before begins to cry once again, something which is stopped as I realise that Theo has already prepared a bottle to my side. I lift it and place it in her mouth carefully, as I remember other mothers doing, and she ceases to cry and focuses on drinking.

"Claire; a beautiful name," Theo comments, standing beside me as if he had never left. I manage to look away from the attention grabbing – this girl is going to be a heartbreaker when she is older – face of my daughter and look into his joyous face and smile. "I have to admit my French is rather rusty, but doesn't it mean clear?"

"Yes, clear," I confirm and he nods. I take the bottle of blood from him with thanks and gratefully drink it, noting how the unnoticed burning in my throat no longer exists once it has graced my throat. "I have to say that it fits better than I thought it would; she has a perfect complexion and I can only hope that her soul is as beautiful as she is," I continue and he laughs softly, pressing a hand to my daughter's perfect face.

"She certainly is a beauty," he admits and smiles once again. "I shall leave you two alone now, Amelie. Congratulations."

I nod and continue to smile, having been unable to stop since I managed to get my daughter into my arms. Once he has left the room, I return my focus to the perfect girl in front of me, the striking baby called Claire… _my_ baby… _my_ Claire. She is mine.

_Je t'aime, Claire… __toujours et à jamais !_

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**so, whatcha think?**

**Is it bad that my French is so limited that I had to look up the 'always' bit of that? 'je t'aime' is simple, but I never knew the word for 'always'… still, only learnt French properly for one year, so I hope I can be forgiven!**

**Please review! Lots of reviews = more updating!**

**Vicky xx**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:**

**So, yes dudes, another update from me!**

**Firstly, I just wanna say to y'all that I am writing a CO-OP story with Lady Aiyaka, and you should read it… cause I am amazing and I will soon be controller of the earth so will simply make you read it then!**

**So on with this story…**

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_Amelie's POV:_

Within two days and I see why Myrnin said that the Eldest had to give up their child after the second day. She may be the best thing that I have ever seen, and have _far_ surpassed what I believed Oliver and I could create with our DNA, but she is draining me. Slowly but surely, I am losing a little energy to this little rugrat, this little angel, and within another day I shall probably die unless she is taken from me.

I never expected to have a child, but to have a human child is a strange experience when you are a frozen vampire, frozen in your early twenties. You are unable to nurse the small thing which means that you have to move her directly onto bottled milk; this is exactly _against_ what the books all told me about being a new parent.

I suppose a good thing is that I don't particularly need a lot of sleep, so when she is awake during the night, I can stay with her until she falls back to sleep. She fits so perfectly into the crook of my arm that it seems almost sinful to let her lie simply in the crib when she could be spending some of the limited time she has with her true mother.

But it is now time to give her up.

"Would you like me to come with you, Amelie?" Theo asks me gently, his hand on my shoulder. I tighten my grip on Claire slightly as I feel a slight chill – for her, not me – in the wind, ensuring that the blankets are secured around her.

"Thank you, Theo, but no," I say, knowing that I must do this myself. "I shall hopefully be back within a day at most. I must find a suitable family for her, and then compel them to look after her as if she is their own. I must also ensure that she _must_ attend Texas Prairie University when she is old enough. But thank you for your offer," I continue, barely managing to keep control of my emotions. Yet my voice tremors slightly and Theo, being one of my oldest friends, knows that I am not ok with this.

"Goodbye little Claire," he whispers into her ear, stroking her head which is covered with thick brown curls. "You be a good girl growing up, and come back here and make your mother happy as she ought to be. See you in a few years," he continues before backing away and motioning for me to enter the car.

I set Claire up in the car seat of which Theo managed to find for me, before reversing out of the driveway. It is the dead of night and I know I would prefer to find a hospital close by, simply so I can return to Morganville before the midday sun is at it's peak: I shall not burn for many an hour, but it doesn't do to be uncomfortable, especially when I shall have lost my child.

So I drive through Morganville and leave as I so often do, alone… I sneak out, without my guards, extremely often although I haven't done it since I found myself pregnant. The reminder of the best thing that has ever happened to me makes me look at the sleeping baby to my right and I hastily wipe a tear away as I zoom down the deserted road.

I soon arrive in the nearest town to Morganville with a maternity ward, and wonder just what to do. I cannot abandon her because I cannot be sure that someone savoury shall pick her up; equally, I cannot be sure that she _will_ be found… a final reason is that her parents are vampires: her blood may not be the exact same. This means that if they run a DNA test and find her blood isn't normal, then she may be carted away as a special case for the FBI or whoever it is that deals with the supernatural these days.

So just whom should Claire, _ma petite_, be given to? She cannot be a second best to another child, as that wouldn't do… perhaps… no, not room 456 – they are not Caucasian so how would they explain the birth of a white child? No… but 458 seems promising.

With this knowledge I could have found a new family for my child, I jump out of the car and scoop Claire up from the passenger door carefully so that she doesn't cry. She remains in her sleep, her breathing not faltering an iota, as I race through the hospital to the room I specified.

I hesitate before entering, knowing that the sight before me will not be a pretty one. A woman is sobbing over a dead body, the body of a two day old female… it seems to me that there was something wrong with her entire nervous system, but this was missed by the medical staff – they may be incompetent, but this woman doesn't seem to be. She seems to think she is to blame, or that there is something wrong with her: this is her only child and she doesn't seem to be able to have anymore – I wonder to myself how I know this, before I remember hearing her conversation with her husband from the car.

I push the door open with a slight creak and she looks up in alarm, no longer muttering to herself about the baby's death being her fault. She doesn't seem to have reported it yet (probably since there _is no staff_ to report it to) but she looks at me with a slight intrigue before jealousy that my child is living.

"Who are you? What do you want?" she asks me suspiciously, backing away slightly. I raise my eyes to hers and meet her husband's also, as he emerges from the bathroom having hastily attempted to mask the red circles around his eyes.

"My name is Amelie, and I am the Founder of the nearby town of Morganville," I speak slowly, my voice putting them under my compulsion. I am weaker from being with my daughter for too long, but I know I have strength enough to do this – she deserves this and I am doing it for her. "This is your daughter. She is called Claire and she is two days old. You love her all the world and you cannot wait to take her home to your house. When she is older and is ready to attend further education, you will _ensure_ that she attends Texas Prairie University, and will no longer smother her with your love from here on. Do you understand?" my voice nearly breaks throughout this long order but I manage to keep strong, thinking of my daughter.

They both nod slowly, through their trance before I step forwards to hand my little Claire to her new mother – the surname is Danvers. It suits her: Claire Danvers. Before she is gone from me for god knows how long, I kiss her forehead and try to put through all the love I have for her, and that I would hope Oliver would also, before she is ripped from me.

With trembling hands, I remove the gold fleur-de-lis necklace from my neck and drop it into the palm of her new mother, who seems delighted with her 'child'.

"Give this to her, and never let her lose it," I say quietly, my voice wrought with emotion. She nods slowly, and I scoop up her dead offspring as I make my way to the door. As I depart, I release them from their trance and hear their sounds of delight at 'Claire Danvers, their perfect daughter' and cannot help but let the tears roll down my cheeks.

I wrap the child up in a blanket and place it in a nearby dug up flowerbed, giving it as dignified a resting place as possible, before returning to my car. I drive on autopilot all the way back to Morganville, an empty feeling in my heart.

_Get used to it, Amelie. You'll have it for years to come…_

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**Fifteen years later…**

"Funny," I say coolly, my voice showing the exact opposite to what I say. My eyebrow arches as I look at the person, the _thing_, kneeling beneath me. "I distinctly remember ordering you to leave my town _and never come back_," I say to the father of my child, the child which has been gone for a decade and a half now, as he has returned to request I allow him to remain in Morganville.

He looks up at me and grimaces, his expression twisted.

"Did I tell you my reason for returning, wondrous Founder?" he sarcastically exhales. I roll my eyes but motion for him to continue, wanting to at least give him a _chance_ this time, rather than using him and leaving him like before. "You see, I enjoyed that night so much… yet you left me high and dry, when I gave you something you desired so much for so many years," he speaks cryptically and I can only assume I know what he is describing. Something which I admired and detested about Oliver simultaneously was the way that he could be discussing something and have you think it was a certain thing, when it turned out to be something entirely different.

"That night was a mistake, as you well remember Oliver," I snap, unable to help myself. "Now, explain _properly_, or I decline your request without another word."

He stands up from his position kneeling, and I stand also. There is a vast height difference but my power makes me feel as tall as him… or it would, if he wasn't blazing and truly remarkable at this moment in time.

"I know what I did," he says finally, after looking at me meaningfully for a long time. "I have a child, Amelie. Where is she?"

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**So, tell me what you think… priddy pwease.**

**I'll update sooner, if you do!**

**Don't forget to check out Alchemy of the Heart! You know you want more of my amazingly awesome writing… it's chapter 2 that I did, then from then onwards it'll be a mix!**

**Vicky xx**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: **

**Go on, 'crazy bitch' or whatever your name is... As I'm so kind, bur evidently not old enough to own a computer as you so kindly put it, have an entirely fragmented and ineloquent response to your ridiculous 'review'. Hhhmmm... Oooohhh, I didn't realise that Amelie sleeping with Oliver and then being able to **_**conceive a child herself **_**had already been done; I think you'll find that the story fits with my other one, The Fight To Be The Eldest, but hhhmmmm, strange that, isn't it? And as for how Claire became a Danvers... WELL, HOW MANY OTHER FUCKING WAYS ARE THERE? Oh yeah, Amelie leaves her on the porch of an **_**entirely **_**random person's house - that's REALLY gonna work. Or perhaps she decides to have a HUGE family adopt her - but Claire's an only child! DUH! Therefore, my conclusion is that you REALLY need to get a life and stop accusing others of entirely untrue things, since I actually spent an entire Spanish lesson planning this story out.**

**And Madelyn Grey has stopped writing, huh? Well, HOW THE HELL HAVE I GOT AN EMAIL ALERT FROM LAST NIGHT TELLING ME THAT THERE'S BEEN A STORY UPDATE!**

**I think **_**you **_**are the one who shouldn't be let loose on the computer... Not 'until you're **_**old **_**enough'. Sheesh!**

**But thanks everyone else for AWESOME reviews! I'm updating so quickly 'cause I'm awesome... Well, s'cause I'm going to Barcelona on Saturday and I have to pack tomorrow and then Saturday, so this is the last chance I have to update, me thinks :(**

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_Amelie's POV:_

What. Did. He. Just. Say? Did he just say what I think he said? Did he say that he knows I had a child, that he is the father? Dear God in heaven, please let this be a hoax and that he is attempting to rile me by _pretending _that he knows something. Please!

Claire... I think about her every single day. She is always on my mind, my memory of her sweet and innocent face locked into my mind because I never thought to take a photograph. It pains my immobile heart to not have her close to me; it pains me that she is growing up in a setting where the only reminder of her true mother is a simple necklace, the only thing _I _ever accepted from my Father.

But back to Oliver. He is staring down at me expectantly, as if he expects me to challenge him. This is something which I _am most certainly _going to do: she cannot be discovered by him! If he finds her, then he could turn her against me or anything simply to ensure that she doesn't come here.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you are talking about," I level him off with an icy glare, as if daring him to contradict me. He makes to speak but anger surges through me that he could think he could get this close to Claire, and he drops down into the chair opposite mine. "So, I behaved rashly and irresponsibly and _entirely _out of character for me. Yet what on earth makes you believe that I conceieved a child?" my voice shows my disbelief in this statement, abeit false disbelief because this is entirely what happened.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a leather cased diary which I believe I left in England when I departed in such a hurry. I hunted high and low for it in the United States but concluded it was either lost on the voyage or in England. I did not fret about humans reading it; I wrote it in an old tongue, a combination of French and Latin with the occasional part of the old germanic languages. I believe only three people in the world could understand it: myself, Myrnin... And Oliver. Unfortunately, he will have been able to understand what I wrote... He will know my secrets and such.

"Do you _really _think I would have forgotten such a large event in our joint history, when you destroyed the Elders?" he asks me rhetorically, trying to make me back down. I sink into the chair, my face whiter than usual with shock, and he tosses the diary at me with a revolted look on his face. "No, Amelie, I wouldn't. I returned to England once you threw me out and remembered the location of your storage facility. I simply removed this when I saw it there and read through it, finally piecing together various things. From then on, I worked through some dates and other data values before concluding that the research we, _you_, did in the past meant that you had to be pregnant, with my child. So give up the act: _where is it_?" he hisses at me, fangs sliding down in anger.

My own do the same and I snarl at him for the way he speaks to me. His eyes roam around the room as if he is looking for signs of my child's growing up - photos, litter, books... The usual signs of the life of a child.

"I gave her away," I say softly, my voice a lot quieter than his which makes the room suddenly have a sudden silence. With a great effort, I bring my fangs back inside my gums and attempt to bring my emotions back to equilibrium.

He, on the other hand, loses it even further and explodes.

"You did WHAT?" he yells at me, actually the angriest that I have ever seen him. He wasn't even this angry when we fought my Father...

"I didn't do it by _choice_, Oliver; how cruel hearted do you believe I am?" I say waspishly.

"With Bishop as your Father, I could say _extremely_!" he retorts. He didn't just dare bring up my father, did he? He didn't just _compare _me to my Father... He did? Oh my, he has no right whatsoever!

"Remember I created you, Oliver... I swear I shall remove your eternal life from you, Father of my child or not," I snap, not caring about threatening Claire's Father because hopefully he will not be in her life. He shall have to stay in Morganville now, as otherwise he will cause many a problem as he departs, but I do not want him here... Perhaps, just perhaps, he will not recognise her - he doesn't know that she will come here, one day, and not know her name either. He doesn't even know the gender!

"Do not threaten me, Amelie; just tell me where my child is," he says in a quieter, more reasonable, tone.

"She could be anywhere," I accidentally reveal her gender, but nothing about her name or anything else. "Oliver, my child is the one thing I would not lie about. I truly do not know where she is," I lean forwards and open my eyes wide to show my innocence to him.

He seems to believe me, his expression turning from outright anger to confusion, before he stands up.

"She is my child as well, Amelie, and I know she will come here sometime," he states in a matter-of-fact tone. "I know she will visit you. I hope you realise that I intend to find out the identity of my child and once I do, I shall have no need for you. I hope that you know that I _will_ destroy you once she is here."

"And hurt her in that way, her mother murdered by her father?" I huff, laughing incredulously. "Do not jest, Oliver. Also, do not consider yourself powerful enough to be able to destroy me… nobody has yet managed to complete that feat and I doubt that you will either."

He rolls his eyes at my haughtiness before speaking again. "If I 'follow your rules', I will remain in this town and not cause havoc; I want to be the second in command and for you not to interrupt my searchings for the book that I _know_ you stole from your father. Is this a deal?" he asks me; ahhh, he didn't just return to find out about his child – he wants the power to create a new vampire.

I smile wanly and stand up to face him once again. "So you didn't return simply to find out about your child," I clarify and he looks slightly bashful. "I ought to kill you for your deceptiveness, but I feel as if I cannot. Therefore, you have a deal. I will allow you to take over ownership of Common Grounds on the condition that, to the humans both of this town and students, you pretend to be human. Is that _acceptable_?" I finish on a sarcastic note, smiling slightly as he processes this. I have changed since I last worked with him, in ways both positive and negative.

Finally, he bows his head in agreement and I extend my delicate hand for him to shake. This agreement sends some sort of tremor throughout the room and I smile subconsciously as I realise I shall be working with him.

"Goodbye, Amelie," he says as he walks towards the door. He then turns to face me, an apparently genuine smile on his face. "I am sure that we shall make a good team, as we did in the past. Just remember… I _will_ find my child," he finishes with the last word, already heading out of the door as he leaves me speechless. Speechless is not a state I either find myself in often or enjoy to be in.

He has left, so I sink down onto the chair again, shaking with worry and fear. He has found out about my daughter simply because I was _ridiculously_ careless in England and left possibly the biggest piece of evidence that could ruin my entire foundation as Founder; if he had managed to interpret some of my rambling thoughts in other ways, I could have already been murdered by him.

Yet he knows of Claire's existence. He knows that he fathered a child but only doesn't know where she is. I pray to God that he doesn't find her.

I pray that she will come to me soon, as I do every night before bed. I have a feeling I am going to need her more than ever…

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**So, please review and tell me what you think!**

**More reviews = faster update…**

**Vicky xx**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:**

_Amelie's POV – around the time that Claire comes to town_

He has not yet succeeded in finding my Claire, in the year since he came here and revealed he knew that we are her parents. He has been searching but he knows nothing but her _approximate_ date of birth – she could look like me or him, or even neither; she could be called Jane or Olivia and could even live in England if her adopted family – although she doesn't know she is adopted and her parents don't know that she isn't hers – decided to move there.

_I will find her, Amelie…_ his words continue to haunt me, along the continual reminder at the council meetings that he is searching for the child we made and that he _will_ find her and take her from me. He doesn't know when she will be coming, but there is no chance that she could be coming for another two or so years. She can only be sixteen, almost seventeen, so it is impossible for her to be here for a time.

"You need to approve the new students for the year at the university, ma'am," Verity says as she comes through the door with a CD-rom, which she proceeds to put into the machine for me – I have never, and will never, be an expert on modern day technologies. "Dean Wallis asked when you would be able to do this for," she sounds apologetic, as she always does when someone tries to rush me through something, and it takes all my effort to remember not to shoot the messenger.

"Tell the Dean that the confirmation shall be through for all the students' viability for the school when I have the time to complete it," I say slowly, carefully monitoring my tone. It has never been my way to be calm and collected when I am angry; I prefer to snap and then regret my actions later.

"Yes, ma'am," she says and disappears with the speed and stealth that all my servants require in order to work for me.

I scan through the photos on the screen as I do every year, on the off chance that she is years early for school, but soon grow bored. So I type into the search box 'Claire Danvers' and press 'search', wanting to confirm that she isn't going to be here this year so that I don't have to hide her from Oliver first before I bar certain students from the university.

Normally, the result pops up instantly, saying 'no matches'… but this time is different. Instead, it says 'processing, please wait', which confuses me: unless I have managed to loose two years from my life somewhere, Claire is coming to university two years early. That is, of course, unless there is another Claire Danvers in the world who is simply two years older than her and wants to come to the same university Claire will be coming to.

The file pops up and I gasp as I recognise her: it _is_ Claire! It is my daughter, _ma petite_, and she is coming here early! She will be in my gaze, my attention span, within only two months… I need to look at her!

Her face is small and petite, having just lost the childhood fat, and she stares at the camera as if she is embarrassed and doesn't want the photo to be taken. Her smile is half hearted but highlights the perfection of her English rose skin, similar to my own when I was human. Her hair is thick and luscious and chocolate brown to match her eyes, both of which are the same as Oliver's – rather, Oliver's hair when he was still human and before it turned grey with age… he isn't _that_ old physically, but in the old days you aged much more prematurely. But back to the present; back to Claire.

She is of a petite height – merely 5 feet, three inches – and weighs less than I could have thought a sixteen year old could and still be healthy. I scan through her achievements: she has finished high school two years ahead and came top in the entire state in the SATs, the top 10 in the country with people two years older than herself. She has been accepted to various Ivy League colleges but she wants to come here – she probably wants to go to the others, but she is coming here because I instructed her 'parents' to send her here.

Simply looking at her, seeing the similarities with myself and Oliver (this amazingly doesn't detract from her beauty, simply adds to it), makes my heart swell with pride before fear. I fear that Oliver _will_ recognise her instantly and will work as hard as he can to ensure that she ends up hating me, somehow or another. Yet I have the upper hand: I know that she is coming here and she, as a youngster, will spend the majority of her time on the campus rather than trawling through the town and going to Common Grounds. _I_ have the opportunity to find a way to talk to her, or do _something_, rather than Oliver. I need to ensure that she stays away from Common Grounds and he will not have an influence over her.

OoOoOo

"Myrnin, what headway have you made on the cure as of late?" I ask him as I enter his laboratory gingerly, knowing that he could be in a state of confusion because of the disease. This is the worrying thing; Myrnin is still unable to find a cure for this disease, even though he has been searching for seventy years, and it scares me that I could lose my mind before I truly get to know my Claire…

"Not much, Amelie… the crystals are as far as I have managed to get but they are, at best, a temporary measure which is most certainly not a cure," he sighs, and I can tell he is entirely in his right mind at the moment. I stare into his eyes and cannot detect even a little of the monster within him – but if I show any weakness, I know it will be there within seconds.

"That is such a shame," I sigh, but do not say just _how_ depressing that news is. I was hoping, after seventy plus years, he would have made _more_ of a breakthrough than this. "Claire is coming to town in September," I say nonchalantly but he stares at me blankly.

"Claire? I didn't realise we knew a Claire," Myrnin says, and I shake my head in desperation. How could he have forgotten her? He was in his sane mind when he told me I was pregnant with her and how – how he has managed to forget is beyond me!

"My _daughter_, Myrnin, remember you reminded me about the Elders and the powers I inherited when I became the eldest female, as well as the Eldest vampire although I am yet to see those materialise," I say, exasperated he has forgotten such a milestone in my life: it was the turning point from the depression and contemplation of ending the misery into the knowledge that someone would need me in the future.

He continues to look partially blank until something clicks in his mind and he spits, disgusted. "Oh yes… you and _Oliver_," he hisses, sounding absolutely disgusted.

"You haven't a right to react like that – you are neither my father nor my partner," I snap at him, but blush most noticeably. "Although you are not the one who made the mistake with him, are you?" I see his side and giggle slightly, albeit manically, and he joins in.

"So your daughter is returning to town – and according to the legends, it is the right time: they were meant to return after sixteen years," Myrnin informs me – well he could have informed me of that _before_! I mean, I could then have prepared so much better in the sixteen years, rather than simply having two months to do the preparation.

"I must go," I say, realising that the council meeting with Oliver – the joys – is approaching. "Myrnin, please work on the cure… I couldn't cope if I began to loose myself further when she is here," I sigh deeply, accidentally revealing a little weakness. The monster in him picks up on it but I secure the weakness, the chink in my armour, by expelling my power around the room and he realises that it would be pointless in attacking me.

OoOoOo

"What is consuming you today, Amelie?" Oliver interrupts my thoughts and I realise, with a jolt, that we are the final two here. I must have blanked out for the remainder of the meeting and the departure of the humans. "Are you contemplating the location of our child, wondering whether you made a mistake leaving her with some _human _family in the middle of nowhere and we will probably never see her in her life?" he asks, and I realise then that whilst he did return for power, at least a part of him returned for Claire. It is the same as with me: as soon as I found out I was expecting a child, part of me changed irrevocably to ensure that I would always love the thing growing inside of me. At least _part_ of Oliver must love his child – even if that part is overshadowed by a thirst for power and to destroy me.

"I have to say, it pains me for you to believe that I just decided I couldn't cope with being a mother so I just abandoned her," I say, my voice ice cold at his assumption. "Evidently you didn't pay _quite_ enough attention when _I_ destroyed the Elders… if the vampire parents are near to their child within the first sixteen years for more than the first two days of the child's life, they then die. So if you would have preferred me to have had perhaps an extra day or two at most with her before dying, then I am sorry that I didn't. Finally, she is _human_… to have her raised by vampires who cannot help when she falls over or… or something similar, would be a travesty," I say, breathing deeply to try and calm myself. Unfortunately, it doesn't work and I feel the power within me spreading around the room as I comfort myself with the knowledge that _I_ have both Morganville and the knowledge where Claire is.

"I partially see your reasoning… but all I want is to see my daughter," he says, and I know for a _fact_ that he is simply trying to emotionally blackmail me. "Surely you do as well, Amelie. It has been too long without her – can you not tell me something about her so I can bring her here?" he pressures me, and a small part seems ready to snap and tell him this information. Then the part of me that remembers he will use her against me, that he will destroy her innocence, comes back into play and I smile a sardonic smile.

"Oh, but why would I do that when I know where she is?" I say sweetly, remembering the address on the slide of information about Claire. "She is right where I want her to be, Oliver… remember, you don't even know her name," I finish, looking him right in the eyes. Something in his gaze makes me want to rush to him, as it did in the past before he tried to kill me, but it also makes me want to kill him. It is the same with Sam at times – I want to kill him for this strange sense of emotion he raises in me… but I love him too much for that.

Oliver growls and slams his fist into the table before standing up and motioning threateningly. I decide not to move, simply allowing my bodyguards to move out of the shadows and look menacingly at Oliver, making him growl once again and walk towards the door. There, he pauses and turns back to me.

"You are making a mistake, not telling me, Amelie," he hisses. "Mark my words, I will make you regret your actions… I will take her from you… I hope you understand that," he continues, before walking out of the room.

The worrying thing? A large part of me, more than I care to admit, believes him. it scares me… it scares me greatly.

**So, whatcha think?**

**Please review! If I get 5 reviews, I shall put the names of the reviewers into a hat and next chapter the winner will be revealed. They can then request a oneshot pairing thing and I will write it for them! **

**Ciao for now!**

**Vicky xx**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:**

**Wow… I've just written three chapter updates for other stories in past tense and you have **_**no**_** idea how hard it was to revert back to my preferred present tense!**

**I will be keeping this story as canon with the books as **_**possible, **_**but I think many things will be changing…**

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_Amelie's POV:_

I need to find a way to be able to get to Claire without either Oliver noticing or my status as a vampire being released to her – I don't particularly _want_ to explain to her the inner workings of this town… yet. I know, as I need to find a way to be able to make her stay, she will need to know in the future but hopefully _after_ she is on my side and knows that Oliver is a vampire. If not, then she could run to him (thinking he is human) and he could get my daughter. That is _not_ what I want.

So just what can I do?

I could reveal myself to her, telling her that she has won some sort of prize… but what? That she gets to be in my company? No, that won't work…

I pick up the phone and dial a number which I memorised a long time ago but have never fully completed dialling. How could I? I pushed him away then slept with him just to cover up what I did with Oliver and what the result was… overwhelming guilt hits me when I think of my despicable actions.

"Amelie, what is it?" he asks, evidently jumping to the danger conclusion with my sudden phone call – the first in fifty years.

"I need a favour," I sigh, barely able to comprehend I am _doing_ this but knowing it is the only option left to me right now.

"I'll be right over – if that's ok?" he confirms and I nod, before realising that he can't see me nodding, so I confirm it verbally. Then I set the phone down in it's holder before placing my head in my hands: this is the only way I can begin to get her to be close to me, but by no way is it a solution. The only thing I can think of right now is to pretend to be a student at the university and be in her classes – but the sun! I can't be out in it continually throughout the day – although I am certainly young enough, appearance wise, to be able to manage to get away with it – every day because that would take it's toll on my health and if Oliver were to attack, I would lose.

Within three minutes, he is in my office, for I allowed him to know how the portal system worked many years ago. I wanted him to be parry to such confidential knowledge as a way to show how much I love him, even though it doesn't appear to be so much, does it? Yet it is and I can only hope that he will know it.

"Amelie, can I ask what is so important that it requires me to be involved?" he asks me quietly, evidently knowing that there is something _major_ going on in order for me to have included him. He has featured in my plans in the past – the incident with the using is _not_ on my mind - only when I need someone I can trust entirely to infiltrate certain organisations and such.

I do not answer straight away; simply bring up the picture and information regarding Claire, my daughter, and turn the computer screen to face him. "This young lady is called Claire Danvers. She is coming to TPU in merely a few days now and I need you to keep an eye on her in as many ways as possible. Also… if she is to run into any trouble, and with Monica Morrell around I can see that happening, I need you to try and persuade your grandson to ensure that she can stay there, if that is how it works out. Is that possible, Samuel?" I look at him for the first time and am reminded just how much I love him.

He simply stares at me for a long time, for so long that I wonder whether or not he has actually heard the request. Finally, he responds. "Why?" he asks me simply, the one question I wish he _hadn't_ have asked.

"I cannot explain, and I doubt you would particularly relish the details, but I can assure you that it is important," I say slowly, trying to keep as close to the truth as possible to refrain from lying to him but wanting to not actually tell him.

"I _will_ find out, Amelie," he says sharply, sharper than I thought he would ever actually speak to me.

"Please don't go probing into it because it will only hurt everyone involved," I beg of him, a tear coming into the corner of my eye as I realise he could destroy everything I am going to have managed to get in one swift discovery. "Samuel, it is of the _utmost_ importance that she is safe… please, just make sure that, as much as possible, she is away from Monica and Oliver and anyone who could want to hurt her," I press for him to agree, revealing too much concern for Claire but not knowing how else to put it across in order for him to accept.

Finally, he nods. "I _will_ find out, from you, in the future," he warns me, his eyes blazing. "If I agree to do this, I want to know what I could be letting my grandson in for… but not now. Whenever this is all over, tell me, Amelie… please."

I nod slowly, irrationally promising him to tell him _I slept with Oliver_ in the future. He smiles before moving around the desk to me, but I tense up and let him know I don't want him here. It isn't that, I just can't have him here for much longer without spilling everything.

"Tell Michael now, please," I say in a stiff voice, inching away from his outstretched hands.

Resigned, he nods and moves away from me. He whispers something but I manage to get my ears not to hear it, for the fear that it would only hurt me further, before walking through the portal to the Glass House, a house in which I spent an awful lot of time in the past, with Samuel.

_My_ Claire is coming here soon, and Oliver _cannot_ have her. I will _not_ allow my flesh and blood to be evil and mutineer against her own mother. But neither will I allow her to fight her father… we must be more civil in the future, Oliver and I… but if that means revealing just _who_ is our daughter, that she is coming to town, I will not.

Yet I have the advantage: he doesn't know where she is. She could be living in New York or even Japan, but _I_ know she is coming to Morganville. Perhaps he needn't ever know that she is his daughter, even if I manage to be close to her… perhaps…

I can only hope.

* * *

**So, this chappy sorta sucked, right? Yeah… I know… it WOULDN'T write. Seriously, I tried like five times and then edited this one TONNES and it still sucks…**

…**well, perhaps not sucking as much as some of the other stuff I have written.**

**Review, if you please xD**

**Vicky xx**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

**Sorry for the MAJORLY long update from me this time: I have WAYY too many stories and exams to write/revise for, so it's sort of like this one that got pushed to the bottom of the pile.**

* * *

_Amelie's POV:_

She is here.

She arrived last week, and I have watched her every move on CCTV or, on the odd occasion she went out to the coffee shop on campus, from afar – so far away that she would never be able to see me. Being small and a vampire has its advantages, for it has meant that I have been able to observe her from far away, meaning that I can stay inconspicuous in my quest to find out what my daughter is like.

The issue of Oliver and his incessant hunt for my book – which Myrnin _really_ ought not to have lost – seems to pale in comparison to seeing Claire. She is even more beautiful in the flesh than she was in the photograph, her slight figure covered with clothes which suit her, though she doesn't seem to fit in.

Already, she has made an enemy and it was the one that I expected it would be: Monica Morrell. She has a decisive hatred for those cleverer than her and those who appear weaker, though if she knew what Claire was made up from, I am sure she would think this through another way. Though I hate to admit it, Oliver is strong and determined and _is_ extremely powerful, though I am all of the above and more so. Claire couldn't have been formed from two stronger vampires, I do not believe, and she will be thankful for this in years to come…

…that is, unless she is found by Oliver. Then she will wish that she _had_ been born to the human parents who raised her, the ones who _have_ done as I asked and raised her properly and exactly how I would have raised her myself, give or take a few things. However, I cannot be judgemental of how she was raised, for I could not have done so – therefore, she has been raised absolutely perfectly.

I realise, as I stand here and watch her select a hot chocolate from the coffee shop, that she no longer appeals to me. She no longer sets my throat burning to be close to her, nor does she ignite _any_ angst for the kill in me whatsoever. She is just my daughter, truly and simply.

"Excuse me, lady, are you just gonna stand there?" one of the waitresses in the coffee shop asks me with an air of disgrace as she stands watching me. She has no idea who I am, but that is not the point: I am here to be inconspicuous and to keep an eye on my daughter, not to be identified as the Founder. It plays in my favour that I look like a college student and that very few humans (or vampires) have seen me, so my identity is still my own.

"I will have a tea in a proper cup, none of this Styrofoam nonsense you seem so keen on," I say sharply, not taking my eyes off of Claire as I speak to the rude waitress.

"Whatever, that'll be three fifty," she snaps her chewing gum loudly and I fight a surge of annoyance in me at the disgusting way by which she is speaking to me. But I force myself to take a deep breath and relax, for I am not here to neither kill nor draw attention to myself. No, I am here for Claire.

I reach into the small clutch bag I carry and extract a five dollar note, deciding that she does not deserve the tip.

"The change in fifty cent pieces, please," I make my strange request, having decided that the change can go in the three different charity boxes in this coffee house: I merely have notes besides this small amount of change, so I feel it only fair to give a proportionate amount to each charity of the little I am able to give.

I can almost hear her rolling her eyes but I look away from her direction once she has taken the money, instead refocusing upon my daughter. She seems worried, as if she is scared someone will come and speak to her, or threaten her – the latter option is much more likely since she has made an enemy of the most influential girl in the entire school.

In the distance, I can see a figure coming towards Claire and I recognise it to be Monica, flanked by her usual 'henchwomen' of Gina and Jennifer. They ought to know better but… they are heading towards my daughter and they do not seem to be in the most pleasant of moods. I doubt that they will, how do you say it, asking to braid one another's hair and play dress up.

I take the mug of tea handed ungraciously to me by the waitress, place the money in the money boxes, and head in the direction of the incoming girls. I _cannot_ have them intercepting Claire, not today. She has a test coming tomorrow and I do not want her to be distracted – she may have impeccable brains, but even she can mess up on an exam if she has been hurt emotionally.

"Hello, Monica," I say with a cool tone to my voice, my hair tied back in a tight bun and the business clothes I am wearing making it painfully obvious I am not a student. To other students, ones not in the know, they will simply believe I have one of those quirky fashion senses.

But to these girls, ones who know about the older population of the town, they know I am a vampire. The coolness of my skin, although we are in spring and the sun is intense enough to tan the skin of a human.

"Erm, who are you?" she questions me, polite enough for a normal vampire interaction but most _certainly_ not with me, the mother of the girl she is intensely bullying for no reason.

"I am someone who will make your worst nightmares come true," I hiss at her, showing my fangs as there are no other students nearby. All three of them recoil at this open show of vampireness, evidently feared by a vampire who is so openly showing her state. "Ridicule another child, Monica Morrell, and they will no longer simply be nightmares. They will be your life."

With this, I rush away at a regular enough pace, having observed my daughter enough tonight. I throw the tea, mug and all, into the bin and return to the university centre, where I summon a portal to take me home.

As I enter my house, I hang the coat I have been wearing upon the peg and walk through into the living room, where I am greeted with a surprise.

"Oliver, what are you doing here?" I ask in confusion, worry and fear as to how he is sitting in my living room _without my knowledge_.

"Where have you been?" he questions, ignoring my question for him – how dare he? Then he answers his own question, moving closer to me and sniffing the air delicately. "You've been to the university; I can smell the delectable scents of young humans… but why? Hhhmmm… unless… but no… could it be?" he is dangerously close to figuring out the truth, so I must distract him.

"Could you _please_ stop your ramblings, Oliver?" I sigh, hoping that my tone will distract him. I take another step towards him; shedding the scarf I pointlessly wore and begin to remove my earrings.

This is a mistake.

He growls, having unfortunately figured out the truth I fear, and launches himself at me. He grabs my throat and throws me into the wall, causing the painting to fall onto the floor, but not causing any damage to me whatsoever. I roll my eyes and take a deep breath as I begin to stand up, angered at his display of violence but also fearing that he knows our child is here, but he then takes me by the throat again and holds on. I could wrench myself free but the fear that he knows the location of our child, _my _child, is too petrifying.

"She is here, isn't she?" he whispers into my face, a look of pure menace upon his face as he processes my reaction to this. I say nothing whatsoever and keep my face from displaying any emotion whatsoever, the only thing showing that I am not myself the heavy breathing. But he seems to take my lack of emotion and objection as a confirmation for he laughs and releases my throat. "Come on, Amelie, I will be able to tell who she is sooner or later – wouldn't it be better to tell me before I find out myself? I may not kill you then," he snaps at me, threat and fury in his voice.

I laugh sardonically, knowing this will infuriate him further. "What makes you think that _you_ could kill me? After all, I am much stronger than you."

His hand snakes out to slap my cheek, the speed showing how hard he would hit me, but I capture his hand in my own. I twist his backwards until I hear him grunt in pain, holding it here for a moment to prove my point before releasing him with a thrust of power which throws him across the room.

He spits in my direction but I roll my eyes, extending my power across the room to show _I_ am in control here, not him.

"I _will_ find her, Amelie," he hisses at me, and it sends a rush of fear through me for I know he is telling the truth. "There are only one hundred and twenty freshmen in the entire TPU, therefore I don't have an entire world to search like before – you had me actually believing that she was in Australia or something."

I shudder slightly and know he is entirely correct. "Oliver, I know you will find the identity of our child, but I ask only one favour," I sigh, conceding to him for I know the outcome cannot change. "I simply ask that you do not tell her that we are her parents. She has been raised by a family who she believes is her own and she does not even know that vampires exist, much less that we are her parents. Oliver, I beg this of you," I am whispering by the end of this mini speech and have averted my eyes from him. I have no idea what his expression is saying now.

There is a long silence as he loiters by the door and I continue to stare at my knees. Then he finally breaks it. "When I find her, I will _not_ tell her that we are her parents. After all, news like that ought to come from her mother, no? I will allow you to divulge that particular information in the future. But be warned, Amelie, she _will_ be mine."

"She will be whoever's she wishes to be," I respond coolly, having decided this a long time ago. "She is a _child_, Oliver, not a pawn in a chess match. She has her own rights and I will _not_ try and take her liberties away from her to claim her as my own. She can make her own decision where her loyalties lie, though since you are the intruding party in this town."

"Ahh, but who pretends to be human?" he retorts, playing a trump card I mistakenly forgot about before. "I have a chance to get close to her and she will think I am on her side, not a vampire. So expect to lose, Amelie, expect to lose," he finishes before walking from the room without another word.

_Bastard_! I yell inside my head at him but know he has the power in this situation. He has the chance to get my daughter from me and he has the upper hand entirely.

This could turn out _very_ differently to what I want.

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**Whatcha think?**

**I wrote the end 1500 words of the chapter whilst watching Eurovision, waiting for the UK to come on! Come on Blue! Shame we can't vote for our own country -.- not that I'd vote anyway…**

**Review please**

**Vicky xx**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:**

**Thanks for the reviews! I hope you like the new chapter!**

* * *

_Oliver's POV:_

She continues to keep the child away from me. Truth be told, I haven't much interest in her in a familirial way, no, it is simply a device to be able to get some leverage over Amelie. It still seems impossible to me that I fathered a child, much less that Amelie had one… that was the one thing she despised about being a vampire, being unable to have a child, but evidently she managed to find a way around that one as well.

So what to do about this girl? She is evidently of my blood, for I know that she had only been with me at that time and she admitted it. I shouldn't have been so stupid as to forget about the events of the Elders and what the eldest female has: the power of procreation. The only thing I can think of to explain my actions is love – in the past, I _did_ love her… but the thirst for power, the lust for control, it overwhelmed me. Love was something which would only hold me back; hinder me, so I chose to try and kill her rather than to be with her…

That was a mistake. It only ended with my near death and the banishment that was supposed to be permanent – but I returned here. Evidently my arrival interrupted her celebrations of a lust for someone who she had long pushed away and she decided that I was a suitable 'replacement' or such for the night… she got carried away and she evidently regretted it…

I, on the other hand, remembered then why I loved her. I remembered why I was such a fool to have tried to kill her when we could have been happy for centuries. This child could have been born into a family which was always together – for she will have had the ability to bear the baby then also. I destroyed my chances of love and happiness when I tried, and failed, for power.

But she used me and she destroyed the love I had for her. I know only the lust for revenge and to replace her, to get everything she loves and to destroy it, remains. In want this child to hurt her, so that she knows that the _one_ thing she wanted in her life is not able to be hers. No… she will lose _everything_: this girl, the town, Samuel Glass – everyone and everything she has an iota of feeling for, she will lose…

However, there _is_ a large part of me that, for some unfathomable reason, wants to know this child just to _know_ her. Part of me wants to know just who she is like and how she will have developed through her sixteen years of life… wait… aren't college goers usually _eighteen_?

That means that she is sixteen and here early… and I can only think of one student whose name I have heard mentioned in regards to advanced placement here… this has narrowed the playing field down to one name, one child… _my_ child.

Claire Danvers.

Oho, Amelie, you have failed, once again, to quash me… watch as I take the one thing you truly love with all your heart from you… watch as you lose her, the child you craved for so long and have barely had… watch…

* * *

_Amelie's POV:_

Something tells me, some unexplainable sense I have in the pit of my stomach, that Oliver knows the identity of the child we share. He knows that Claire is _our_ daughter… oh, why did I have to tell him that she attends TPU? Surely even _he_ will have figured out that our child is sixteen years of age and that she goes to TPU – there hasn't ever been a student _that_ good who has came here before, so she is unique. He will have heard names and rumours and other titbit pieces of gossip…

He knows who she is.

I ought to phone him, to order him here, to do something, _anything_, to stop him going after her. I know he will hurt her to hurt me and I cannot cope with that. There is the one person in the world that ought never to be hurt to hurt you and that is your child… but the way that the other parent is trying to use her to hurt me – that is truly despicable.

The phone rings on my table and I start slightly, unable to believe that something as mundane as a telephone call could still be going on when _my daughter's identity has been found out by her psychotic father_.

"Hello?" I answer the phone in a questioning tone, unable to be my usual collected self in such a time of stress.

"Amelie, it's me," Sam says on the phone hesitantly, evidently expecting me to hang up. But I can't – his voice is the one thing that has caused even a spike in the hours since Oliver found out so much more information about my Claire.

"Sam, whatever is the problem?" I ask him softly, unable to be sharp with him. I feel as if I'm going to collapse, holding this entire secret inside of me and I wonder… I wonder whether or not I should tell him the truth and make the compulsion I put over him all those years ago disappear so that he would never think that we had a child together. I couldn't have him thinking that Claire is his when she truly has no chance of being…

"You told me to tell you if Claire ever moved into the Glass House," he says and the name of my daughter sparks my interest in the entire conversation. "And she has. Michael phoned me to tell me about fifteen minutes ago because he thought since I made sure he would guarantee to give her board if she ever wanted to go there I would want to know she actually used it," he explains, albeit slightly confusingly.

A tear escapes down my face and I laugh slightly at the almost brilliance of this plan: she is safe! Oliver cannot get to her in a house full of humans! This is utterly marvellous! That is, unless manages to get herself caught up in the search for the book… which I have _no_ doubt that she will do.

"Sam, you have no idea _how_ happy you have made me," I say slowly, but the laughing ends up turning into a sob as I realise how _bad_ this situation is at the same time. She may be safe but she is closer to Oliver in Morganville… and he knows who she is now. "Oh… what do I _do_?" I question, forgetting for a moment that I am on the phone.

"You are so confused, Amelie, and that scares me," Sam confesses on the phone and I realise that I just can't do this anymore. I can't keep quiet about Claire's existence any longer: I need someone to confess to… and there is only one person who I can do that to… they are on the phone right now.

"You have to believe me, Sam, it scares me as well," I sigh, wiping my eyes furiously as I prepare myself to invite him over. "Sam… I have something I really ought to tell you… you just have to promise me that you will not overreact or be disappointed or _anything_. Please," I rashly decide that I _must_ do this, that he _must_ know now otherwise I will lose my nerve and never tell him.

"If it is anything to do with murdering someone, I didn't do it," he jokes, his usual humour lightening my mood, if only slightly.

"You didn't murder anyone Sam… no… that would be me, though it is rather tenuous a link that," I sigh, rambling for no particular reason. "No, it isn't anything to do with you, whatsoever, Sam; I just need to tell someone. Please come here," I whisper the last part before hanging up the phone and placing my head in my hands. I truly do not know how to process everything… and I don't think I ever will.

The portal opens and my flame haired beauty steps through, angst and fear marking his every step in his stride towards me. The familiar sight of his beautiful appearance calms me once again, slightly, and steadies me on my feet as I turn to stand and look at him.

"What is it, Amelie?" he says softly, moving across the room and kneeling before me. He is so innocent and pure and I am… not. I am the daughter of the devil reincarnated in my father and this is the first time I have _truly_ seen it shine through. For, you see, I have no _need_ to tell Sam. But I am choosing to, even though I know it will destroy him. I am choosing to hurt him beyond belief simply so that I have someone to talk to and discuss my daughter with, if he will do… it's a coping mechanism to try and deal with the mounting pressure all of this is causing in me.

"You will hate me forever and I will not stop you," I whisper, unable to look him in the eyes as I sit down in my chair heavily. He takes my hand and begins to play with my fingers, granting me the small fortune of being able to smile for a second before the severity of the situation rises to the forefront of my mind. "I… many years ago now, almost seventeen to be exact, I did something stupid, reckless, _idiotic_," I begin, skirting the issue slightly as I fear to confess this. It will be the first time I have told anyone what I have done _ever_. And I don't think I can do it.

"What did you do?" he asks me gently, evidently having no idea what this could be about. "Whatever it is, Amelie, I'm sure that it can't be _that_ bad… even if the Feds are involved or anything… we can get away," he gets the wrong end of the stick _entirely_, and probably thinks that the security of this town has been called into question and that the C.I.A or the F.B.I are coming for us…

I crack another smile and shake my head, solemnity the only thing now in my mind. "If only it were that simple, Sam," I sigh, squeezing my eyelids shut. "I... I… I slept with Oliver, Sam… I slept with him… and we have a child." I reveal my secret in the space of a few garbled sentences and wait for his reaction… but there isn't one…

This isn't good.

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**Whatcha think? Was it silly of me to have had Amelie confess to Sam?**

**Please review! Priddy pwease!**

**Vicky xx**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12:**

**For CurlyCharlie, who I promised this chapter for a couple of days ago but only just had time to write it (lots of other stories, as well as a 4300 word chapter for Dissolution, people!)**

**I don't own anything**

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_Amelie's POV:_

He doesn't do anything for a long and immeasurable time, simply sits here and stares at me with unseeing eyes. As soon as I confessed what I had done, I opened my eyes and looked at him, begging for him to look at me, to tell me that he doesn't care.

I can't tell how much time elapses inbetween my confession and his first movement – not even a word, simply a movement of his head from in my direction to look at the floor - but I know that every single second that elapses causes another break in my heart, until it ought to be dust.

"Is it Claire?" he finally asks, his voice low and controlled, entirely without emotion. He sounds like a robot as he speaks and I can only hope that it is because he doesn't want to show his emotions… why he has chosen today to change his mind from being so open is beyond me… but his silence hurts.

He hit the nail right on the head: I suppose my actions were already arousing suspicion in him, as to why I wanted Claire out of Monica's reach, but I never expected him to guess correctly straight away. My mouth opens and closes three or four times, unable to speak every time, and I assume that he takes my lack of denial as a confirmation of his words.

Suddenly, he moves. Each step he takes surprises me further, so much so that when his hand closes around my throat, his body throwing me backwards in my chair but it doesn't hurt. No matter how angry he could get with me, he could never hurt me. I know that. But this… it only shows how much he cares: the anger in his eyes as he stares at me with disgust on his face barely masks the pain that my actions have caused him, the pain that I wouldn't be loyal to him during this time of being apart we went through. It shows me that he cares that I acted this way…

"I'm done," he announces quietly, his voice seething. Perhaps… perhaps this is a ruse, that he wants me to tell him how I feel so he can decide whether or not to fight for me. So I move my hand slowly, carefully so that he can see it coming, onto his own closed around my neck as he stares down at me with pure hatred in his face. He isn't masking it… I wouldn't want him to. I told him he could hate me and you have _no_ idea how much I regret that.

"No," I whisper, fresh tears streaming down my face as I process his words properly. He is done with me. He doesn't want me anymore; he doesn't want to fight for me. Words cannot describe the pain that that causes me. "Sam, I love you. I need you. Please… please don't leave me for the mistake I made so long ago," I beg him, not caring that this is entirely the opposite of what I am so used to doing, so out of character for me. I… I need this man so much, so much more than he is aware of.

He shakes his head and wrenches his hand from underneath my own, releasing me in the process. The place where his gripping hand was feels bare now, as if the rush of usually pleasant air is the most heinous thing I have ever felt.

"You cheated on me… we may not have been physically together but I thought that if you loved me you wouldn't do such a thing," he says to me, his voice finally betraying his true emotions. He is hurt, hurt so badly at the immoral and, frankly, disgusting actions I have done… I got what I had wanted for so long, a child, but at the cost of another important thing in my life. "I cannot… I… goodbye," he begins two different sentences before breaking off, ending with an abrupt final statement.

I protest meekly, unable to do anything as he walks out of my office, out of my life in his eyes, but he ignores me. Finally, I hear the downstairs door slamming, him venting his frustration, partially, and know that he has left. Once I know this, I let the tears fall faster and faster until the only thing I can see is them streaming down from my eyes to my cheeks and dripping off my chin.

"Now _that_," I hear a voice I would much rather never hear again in my entire life says behind me, "is something that the world, in particular me, would never want to see again."

Oliver, the father of my child, the one who has caused so much damage in these past minutes _without even being here_, is here. Does that perhaps indicate how much of a poisonous viper he is, that he can destroy the tentative beginnings of the renewal of Sam and my relationship and be on the other side of town?

"What," I begin slowly, my teeth gritted as I stop crying to look at him with a new sense of rage, "could you want with me? I believe you have taken enough from me, so why come here now?"

He smiles at me but it is the sardonic smile that makes you want to destroy their face, the one that you _know_ is designed to make you get up and slap them. "Oh, but Amelie all I wanted to do was to say that we ought to have a small party to celebrate the return of Claire Danvers, our daughter. You see, your plan to bring her back messed up, Amelie… she is the only 16 year old in the entire college so it was not hard once I realised that," he explains how he found my daughter, my face draining absolutely of any colour as I listen to his words.

I grit my teeth once again, not entirely endearing my appearance but not caring because I don't want to do this; all I want is my daughter… he doesn't want her. He just wants to take her from me to weaken me.

"Stay away from Claire and I," I snap at him, wondering whether or not he knows that she is in the Glass House rather than the university rooms now. "If I see you _anywhere_ near her outside of Common Grounds _when you are pretending to be a hippie_, I swear I will rip your head from your shoulders with no concerns that you are her father," I hiss, my eyes turning bright crimson as my fangs sink down to show him _just_ how serious I am. Feral is a word I would liken my appearance to at the current moment in time with no qualms as to how this detracts from my appearance.

When I am trying to save my daughter, I will do anything.

He smiles once again, but he seems to know that he is beaten. The anger in me is so high right now that I could _absolutely_ reach out and kill him and he could do nothing about it: I am that strong with the anger…

"That is a deal… but outside of Common Grounds… never mind," he begins to protest, trying to find a loophole, until my look reminds him the only place he has the _chance_ to speak to her is in his café as a hippie. I said that specifically for I know he would take her into the back and twist her there… Oliver is sneaky and devious; I would put nothing past him.

"Now, if that is all, get out of here," I order him sharply, directing him towards the door with one arm.

He does this but turns back right at the door, his face twisted with glee. "And the wondrous Amelie has finally lost control over her puppet… we were all wondering how long it would take. How does it feel, Amelie, to have gotten the child you desired but to have lost the 'love of your life' in the process?" he rhetorically asks me before walking out himself earlier than it is possible for me to respond.

Two men in the space of quarter of an hour have walked out on me, both having ties to me that I cannot destroy though I would _adore_ to sever Oliver from me. But I cannot because of Claire. I got everything I wanted for centuries in her… but then I lost my heart's desire for the last fifty years. Which should win out? Or should they be able to be equal, for me to love Claire entirely as my child and Sam as my lover?

Will he have me back?

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**Whatcha think?**

**Review, please! I have like 2 days off between exams so could possibly write the next one soon if you want?**

**Vicky xx**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13:**

_Merci beaucoup for the reviews! I have to pick my options for A-Level and I am soooo screwed because I want to do nine things with all my heart and I can only choose five :(_

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_Three days later:_

He isn't going to come back to me willingly, I can tell that right now. When he said that he was done with me, I can tell that he meant it. Sam has never been a person for saying things that he doesn't mean, I know that, and I can only presume that he must have thought at least a little about making the decision to cut me out of his life entirely. He has never been a rash thinker, one who makes irrational decisions to later regret: whatever he says, he sticks to, as far as possible.

I have tried to call him many a time, but I presume the invention called caller id has resulted in him being able to avoid my calls. If he didn't have that, then at least _once_ he would have picked up the phone even for a second. But no… he hasn't done this. He hasn't. I have not had the pleasure of hearing his perfect voice in too long… yet, at least before, I _chose_ not to hear him, as so to protect my fragile heart. However, now…now that I _want_ him, he has to walk away from me, doesn't he? He cannot accept that I did the heinous thing I did to protect Claire but I _owned up to it_! I could have continued to deceive him for so much longer than I have done, yet the time I _have_ deceived him has been far too long, I know.

Now that he is ignoring me, I must refocus on Claire. I don't know _what_ I'm going to do to be able to get her onto my side, but I know that I _have_ to have her. That sounds so… derogatory, doesn't it? I have to 'have' my daughter. But it is better than the alternative.

It is better than her being dead.

Because, even if he _didn't_ kill her to spite me, she would still be dead; dead to the world of the good, the world where she could do _great_ things. She would be a puppet for Oliver until he tired of her and then he would cast her aside, most likely to Brandon. She would be nothing to him.

I cannot let that happen. Therefore, I must find a way to fight back against his ever increasing upper hand. He has the chance to get to her as a faux human as well as the fact that her friend, Ms Rosser, works in his establishment. I regret, oh so much so, allowing him to have the premises of Common Grounds because they are only aiding him in his quest to poach Claire from my arms, though the reach of my arms may be limited at best.

But what do I do?

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_Oliver's POV:_

She walks into the café and I can tell _instantly_ that she is Amelie's daughter. She has many of the same features with everything but the colour of her hair and eyes near exact to her mother. Just the sight of her makes me want to destroy her, for everything her mother has done to me, but I manage to relax and return to my usual mantra of a human. It is hard, but I manage it…just.

"Hey, Oliver," Eve, as usual, greets me as she walks past me to duck under the counter to begin to serve. Claire, the child I have fathered, looks at me with a smile, as if she remembers how I was friendly before and expects me to be the same once again. Ahhh yes, I had half forgotten that I am wearing the shackles of the hippie clothes, the ones that mean my nature _must_ be kind and… well, I have to behave that way anyway so I may as well get on with it.

"Hello, Claire," I articulate her name clearly, a smile on my face as I do so. As I speak, I observe her in greater detail: she shares my nose along with something in her face – the grim determination to do well.

It may sound strange, but I do not think that there _could_ be a better pair of vampires to create a child. Whilst we may hate one another due to past events, with her strengths and my own, there has been a great child born. This is evident through simply the fact that she was able to get into university two years prior to when she ought to.

"How are you?" she asks me, her expression open and friendly. Of course it would be… why would she be any different? She knows nothing of her heritage, simply thinks her weak human parents are her parents. She wouldn't know that she is currently the pawn between myself and Amelie, the one breakable thing that we both desire but for entirely different reasons.

The pawn _always_ gets broken.

"I am… good, yourself?" I respond, thinking about what to say. Certain answers would be _too_ archaic and would betray my hidden age, but I don't have the ability to say I am the _best_ at modern human language. Therefore, this is the best that I can manage.

"I'm good… just bored with school," she confesses, probably wondering to herself why she is telling a stranger who can do absolutely nothing about it but doing so anyway.

"Yes, I have heard that you are something of a child genius," I reply with a smile, a part of me aching to get to know her more. The rest of me then pounces on this part before realising that it is _good_ to know more about her; it means both that I can use this to my advantage to 'get' her later, as well as to taunt Amelie with the knowledge I have of her daughter.

She blushes, as is apparently customary of human girls to do when they are given a compliment, and shakes her head. "Nahh, I just got good at some stuff… to be a genius, you need to be good at _loads_… I can't even play chess," she explains her reasoning… WHAT!

She cannot play chess. She, the daughter of myself and Amelie who are chess _extraordinaires_, cannot play the game which has decided so many battles between ourselves and others. True, ninety five percent of the time she won and then we won the battle also… but the five percent that _I_ won… ok, maybe we lost the battles but that is beside the point. We both have a certain aptitude for the game and if Claire cannot play… then that is astronomically bad!

"Well… I am rather partial to a game of chess every now and then so if you ever would like a game I am sure I can teach you," I say casually, hoping that she will accept. This will make it possible for me to bring her under my control, hopefully, for her to realise that _I_ am the one she ought to be on the side of, not Amelie. Actually… she has never even _seen_ Amelie, so why on _earth_ would she join with her?

She contemplates this for a moment before nodding, then looks at her watch. "I'd love to, Oliver, but… oh wait, it's an hour earlier than I thought," she evidently stressed about missing her class before realising that she cannot read the time properly!

I snort slightly and nod. "Well, I can't play now as I have work to do but perhaps another time, no?"

From the corner of my eye, I can see Sam Glass walking into my café with a steely determination that would probably scare me… if he were about 500 years older. He is a puppy with no bite, one who could do no harm to me whatsoever.

"Excuse me, Claire, I have some business to be dealing with," I say slowly, turning away from Claire as Sam comes up to us. His eyes flicker over Claire and I can see by the shock on his face that he didn't realise she was _this_ much like her mother. Oho, how lovely it must be for him to see the thing that I was able to give her but he wasn't…

"Oliver, I want a word," he growls at me and I can see from Claire's face that she is confused as to who this is.

"Claire, this is Sam Glass, Michael's Grandad," I introduce her to the vampire who must have been confusing her because, well, he looks so much like his grandson, the one who I attempted to turn into a vampire but failed for some reason. "What do you want, Glass?" I say in a steady tone, flashing a look of intense anger at him.

"You _know_ what I want to talk to you about," he continues in the same tone as before. Then his attention turns to Claire, "Hello, Claire, I trust you are ok on your own?"

"Um… sure?" she says, but then Eve returns so she has no need for me anyway. So I sigh and nod, motioning for the Glass boy to follow me into the office before I lock the door and -

BANG!

"What the-?" I begin, touching my face as I realise that Sam has full on punched me… and he has actually made it hurt a little.

"You slept with Amelie," he hisses at me, sweeping a hand across my desk to knock everything onto the floor. I roll my eyes at this _utterly_ childish thing to do before zooming across the room to try and knock him to the floor.

Unfortunately, it seems that anger has increased his strength somehow, because he simply throws me across the room before following, to land on top of me and begins to punch me even more. This means I retaliate and throw him off of_ me_, him landing against the wall. I stand up and grab him by the throat, Sam entirely unable to get out of this situation now.

"Little vampire, that was a _long_ time ago," I hiss at him, my eyes as crimson as his own. "Let me assure you of this _right_ now, I have no plans to do it again, since I realised she used me because she missed _you_. I did nothing wrong… it is what I am _going_ to do that is the thing you would probably deem wrong. Do you understand?"

He nods slowly, his eyes fading back to their normal blue colour, and I release him.

"I don't care if _you_ didn't do anything wrong; she did," he says, sitting down in the chair as if every ounce of the fight has gone.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Sam, _grow up_!" I snap at him. "You are worse than a child! Who _cares_ what she did a long time ago; I'm pretty sure that you weren't faithful to only her, since Michael is around!"

He whirls around and snarls at me. "That is because I was _married_ before Amelie! Melinda died when my son was born and it wasn't until _after_ then that Amelie and I had any sort of relationship," he clarifies… well, it's nice for _someone_ to have clarified the town politics for me. "So I don't find having a family to be the thing I have done wrong. No, that would be loving someone who quite _obviously_ doesn't love me back."

Once again, I roll my eyes as I begin to pick up the mess he has made. "I repeat, you are a fool. Do you _really_ think that she would have done anything with me if her love for you wasn't the only thing that kept her going? just accept that she loves you… but she has someone else to love now. Her daughter."

He sighs and nods his head. "I can't accept that she did it," he says.

"I don't care whether you can or not. Just know that she was a user and didn't care for me…"

Then I hear a chilling voice behind me, one that I wish wasn't here… "Well, it wasn't _quite_ like that."

Amelie is here. Oh _ye_s_, _the entire damned family is here!

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_Whatcha think?_

_Please review_

_Vicky xx_


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14:**

**Sorry, this chapter took ages to write**

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_Amelie's POV:_

Both of them are in his office, discussing me as if I am some sort of _livestock_! It's as if they think I am absolutely nothing and that they can make me out to be something that they own. Let me set the record _quite_ straight: neither of them own me and if I required, I could have them both killed in an instant. Although I wouldn't, for Claire is the daughter of Oliver and Sam is the only male I have ever _truly_ loved.

Yet here they are, discussing me. I walk through the portal to hear Oliver saying that I used him. whilst that may be the truth, he doesn't need to keep it in _quite_ as crude terms as such.

"Well, it wasn't _quite_ like that," my tone is icy cold as I move further into the room, shutting the portal seamlessly behind me. Both the menfolk in the room turn to face me slowly, as if they cannot believe I am here. "Haven't either of you two heard that it is _most_ rude to discuss a lady when she is not present?" I continue, my tone lightening slightly as I wonder what response Oliver will formulate to this question.

He sneers slightly before nodding his head almost imperceptibly. "Why yes, I have, though it generally is helpful for the subject of the conversation _to_ be a lady, rather than what I could call you," he implies things I have considered about myself in the past but he has no right to do such a thing.

I stalk across the room suddenly and have my hand raised. Before he can react, I have slapped him across the face so hard that I can hear it ringing across the room from him. I cannot describe how I know my facial expression must appear but I know that it shall not be pleasing nor pleasant to view, something for which I am grateful. Nowadays, I so very rarely lose control like this – it seems almost alien to me.

"Insult me like that again, Oliver, and I shall ensure that it is the last thing you do as a free man; do you understand?" I hiss at him, anger driving through every single syllable of my speech. He nods slowly, his face betraying no emotion but a clearing of someone's throat diverts my attention back to the other man in the room. "You, what is your purpose here?" I ask Sam, trying to keep my voice steady so he doesn't realise how much his appearance shakes me to my core. To see him here, with _Oliver_, scares me as I do not know what they have been discussing before what I heard and whether Oliver has succeeded in his most likely quest to ensure that Sam never forgives me.

He looks at me coolly, evidently still extremely mad at me, and simply shrugs as he stands up. "I came to speak to Oliver. Evidently that conversation is over, so I am leaving," he says, walking out the door before I could even contemplate getting my brain to react. Around Sam, I seem to be more human, having slower reactions and not knowing how to react. It is most unnerving.

"You have to attempt to ruin my relationship with my daughter; _must_ you turn the one other person I love against me, when it was going to be hard enough for me to get him to come around?" I sigh, sinking down into the chair where Oliver normally sits. I place my head in my hands delicately and barely hold back any emotion, part of me realising that my daughter is sitting in the café mere metres away from me.

Oliver makes a noise of disgust and folds his arms across his chest as he contemplates me. "You _really_ are a stupid woman, aren't you?" he snaps at me, causing me to look up in anger. How _dare_ he speak to me like that: I have done absolutely nothing to warrant it and he should not speak to his elder nor better in such a manner!

"Speak to me like that again, Oliver, and the fate that awaited my enemies in Ireland shall be repeated on you, but one hundred times worse," I inform him coolly, succeeding in keeping my voice level albeit with cold fury. I have the satisfaction of watching his face pale for a moment before he nods and steps further back from me. As if that would do any good!

"Amelie, I have not tried to decimate your, ahem, relationship with Sam," he informs me in a low tone, a direct contrast to my own. His seems almost as if he cares for me, yet I know that that is untrue for why else would he try and take my daughter from me? He wouldn't… "I actually tried to persuade him to accept that you were not together at the time Claire came about, not stir things up further. After all, it is _you_ who has caused all of this, after all," he smirks at the end, revealing how he doesn't _really_ have concerns for me, he is just trying to dabble in my affairs.

"Please note, Oliver, that I have absolutely no desire for you do influence _anything_ in my life, so do not attempt to meddle in any shape or form," I retort sharply, wondering what his response shall be.

"In that case, feel free to leave my office," he answers just as sharply, almost no recognition in his face whatsoever.

I toss my hair over one shoulder and head towards the door, deigning to head through the café for the first time in my life when it has been full. But as I reach the door, I stop.

There is a scent that I recognise without having ever touched it… or for sixteen years, I haven't.

Claire.

She has been listening.

She knows.

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**So, this chapter sucked. Sorry about that. **

**Still, the odd chapter is ok, right? **

**Review please!**

**Vicky xx**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15:**

**Sorry for the last chapter – I think I have an idea what I want to happen in this chapter, so yano… **

**I don't own anything – last time I checked, I was a teenager in England, not Rachel Caine…**

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_Amelie's POV:_

As soon as I recognise the scent of my daughter, I spin back around into the office and slam the door shut. I know the fear of Claire having heard about all of this is evident in my eyes, something which Oliver recognises as soon as he sees me returning to his office.

Yet he doesn't know why I'm scared.

"What have you forgotten to say to me?" he sighs, shaking his head slightly as he picks up another piece of paperwork. "That you despise me? That if I dare to discuss _anything_ with Sam again, be it even the weather, you will cut me into pieces?"

I shake my head to all of these options, moving to sit down in the chair opposite him. "No. Oliver… she has been here," I whisper, my lips barely moving as I process _what_ we said, what she will have heard.

We discussed… my daughter, as well as throwing Claire's name into the mix. We also discussed Sam… but there was categorically _no_ way that Claire, such a bright girl, could have missed that we were discussing her in here.

Even Oliver seems startled by this news, throwing down his paperwork and staring at me in disbelief. "Whilst I wanted you to inform her_ soon_, even I agree that this was not part of the plan," his words reassure me that he hasn't deliberately brought her here to discover her birthright – as what would be the point in associating himself with the informing of her?

I nod slowly and place my head in my hand. "I just didn't want her to find out this way, without me being able to explain in detail about the events and such," I sigh, until a slightly grim thought crosses my mind. "And it doesn't particularly help that you are still believed to be human in her eyes – it simply makes me appear even… wait, she doesn't know who I am. She doesn't know of my identity, or who Sam is! We may yet be saved, Oliver, from her being _entirely_ unable to process the information!" this realisation raises a small smile to my lips, one that would be dowsed with even the hint of bad news, yet is strong enough at present.

Oliver simply nods, not seeming particularly thrilled with this turn in events of his trump card over me, yet seems to let it slide near instantly. "So, my dear _Amelie_, what is your plan to explain to the child that we are her blood relatives? Are you going to throw in your tales of bloodlust and how you destroyed Elder after Elder, including your own Father, in order to get what you desired – the crown of being the Eldest vampire in the world?" he continues, riling me slightly.

"Incase you have deigned to twist the events of the past, yourself and Myrnin were _more_ than happy to commit the majority of the murders alongside me, therefore what does that make you?" I snap back instantly, the smile fading. "A cold blooded accomplice?"

"Better to be an accomplice than a murderer," he shoots back.

"No, no," I shake my head, the smile once again forming on my lips yet more of a bitter approximation than before. "You see, dearest Oliver, at least I had something to gain by committing the murders. What did you achieve, besides attempting to ride on some of _my_ glory? You did not become the Eldest vampire, nor did you become the Eldest male… therefore you gained nothing, whilst I gained _everything_. And remind me again, Oliver, why you felt you were so much further along the moral highground than myself?" I shake my head at him once again, rising from the chair to stand.

He seems stunned into silence, one that lasts the entirety of three minutes before he too joins me. "So, I suppose you're going to tell her now?" he sounds hopeful that I will go alone, though now he has been revealed to have a part in this, this is not the route which we are now to take.

"Oh no, Oliver, we are _both_ going to inform her of her birthright," I say with a slightly twisted smile, this being the first form of 'entertainment' I have managed to find for myself in many a day. With the events of the past few days, I cannot say I have found enjoyment in anything that has occurred, yet this seems to bring a strange brightening to me.

His face blanches. "I don't suppose we could change the location from the Glass House, if possible?" something about his tone suggests to me that he is uncomfortable heading to the Glass House, therefore he most _assuredly_ shall be accompanying me!

"No; she is comfortable there and I am happy with it, so we shall conduct our explanation there," I move towards the door, where I know outside my bodyguards shall wait with my transportation to take me to wherever I desire to go.

I walk slowly through the café, heading to the door with Oliver scurrying behind me. I suppose I may as well allow him to travel with me, so I can see firsthand why he is so uneager to head to the Glass House.

As we near to our location, he begins to fidget more and more, unable to look me in the eyes, yet is unable to continue to stare out of the window for more than a few seconds. It's more than slightly annoying and I am on the verge of saying something more than slightly insulting, when we arrive.

I step out of the car and expect him to follow, heading up the steps as dusk falls upon Morganville. The door is opened nearly instantaneously after I knock, startling me on the inside.

"Yes?" evidently Michael Glass does not recognise me, yet I recognise him: how could I not, when he is the near spitting double of his Grandfather?

"I require to speak with Claire," I say slowly, wondering if I shall have to introduce myself prior to being permitted entrance.

He is about to reply when he spots Oliver behind me. "With that thing, not a chance," Michael snaps before slamming the door shut.

Perhaps this could be even _more_ complicated than I thought!

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_Sorry…I think the action happens next chapter – which will be longer!_

_Don't fav/alert without reviewing please… or read without reviewing, thank you._

_Vicky xx_


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter****16:**

**Apologies for long update: school and then I did loads of homework last night…and now I spent like 2 hours writing this tonight.**

**I don't own anything...**

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_Amelie's POV:_

As the Glass boy slams the door in my face, I turn down to look at Oliver with a harsh expression. Evidently he has done _something_ to infuriate this boy, yet what he has done to him is beyond me for the boy hasn't been seen for many a month according to reports, yet it is obvious that Oliver is the root of this behaviour because he only acted in a negative manner when he saw Oliver.

"Open the door," I call through it, my voice cool and level even as the volume increases. "Michael, this is a mistake not letting me enter when I have a most important reason to do so," I continue as it becomes apparent he won't be opening the door any time soon.

"Send that bastard away and I will do," he replies defiantly – evidently it _is_ to do with Oliver, further proof in the way Oliver's head ducks further.

"I shall compromise, for he must be here for why I am here," I reluctantly agree. "If you allow myself in, in order for me to explain the reasoning why Oliver's presence is required, I shall not bring him in unless you are entirely accepting. Do you accept?" it is a long shot, I feel, for he plainly doesn't want Oliver in the house (and perhaps the reason why will most assuredly make him decide that he does not want either of us present in the house) but I can but only try.

"I don't want him anywhere near the doorstep when I open the door," after a long pause, he agrees to allow me in.

I turn to look at Oliver, who has raised his head slightly in probable disbelief that this has occurred, and shrug ever so slightly. "Over there, Oliver, as the boy said," I smile slightly as I relish the ability to be able to send him away at my beck and call, him being able to do nothing about it. "And you can come back when _I_ desire you to, not at any other time," I feel the need to add, for Oliver doesn't appear particularly thrilled by my ordering him away.

As he crosses the street, he waves a hand in the air to indicate that he understands what I am saying, yet doing so in the most dismissive of manners. However, he is not my focus, my priority: that would be speaking with Michael to allow Oliver into the house to then discuss everything she has overheard in a greater level of detail and clarity.

Something indicates to me that this shall not be the easiest thing I have ever done...

"He is gone," I confirm as I hear the clicking of the door. As I speak, the door is opened an adequate distance for me to be able to see Michael standing before me, as well as a cross section of his home's living room. It appears akin to how it was furnished when I spent time here, both in residence and my visiting of Sam many years ago, yet with the smattering of modern human's electrical devices they feel they cannot live without.

After a short pause, he steps aside enough to allow me passage through, yet moves back out in front of me to prevent my bodyguards from accompanying me. "It is fine," I say simply as Gérard appears to be attempting to force himself through the boy…who seems _awfully_ strong for someone with a heartbeat.

A moment passes and finally Gérard stands down, nodding respectfully to me as he steps backwards and remains on the doorstep, this being the last thing I can see before Michael slams the door shut in a most ominous fashion.

And then I'm alone with the Glass boy.

He stands in the doorway for a moment, breathing heavily, before he nods to me in an indication for myself to walk through the hallway and into the living room. Now I am inside, I can tell that Claire is not here; I cannot hear her heartbeat, even in the secret room, and I presume she is not dead – the only person here is Michael.

"What do you want so bad that you need to bring that thing into my house?" he asks me after a long pause between us. I didn't want to bring anything up too prematurely, so instead waited for him to ask me the questions…and I can assure you that being on this side of the fence, so to speak, is not enjoyable whatsoever.

"I require to speak with Claire and Oliver is crucial to that conversation," I deign that it is more prudent of me to keep my cards close to my chest, so to speak, so that I can keep the conversation with Claire secret. This may not be able to be played out for very long – in fact, it shall only be able to occur until I have to explain why Oliver _must_ be here. I categorically refuse to shoulder the burden that the fall out due to this revelation shall ensue – it was his fault, in all technicalities, for her to find out this early therefore he can be present as we attempt to explain what will appear to be the impossible to her.

His eyebrows rise in the perceptive manner that reminds me so painfully of his Grandfather, the man who appears to despise me now for my actions in the past. "I don't care for your diplomatic bull to keep whatever you want to keep quiet that way; if you're going to bring the one that turned me into…into _this_, to my house, you better damned well tell me," he snaps, the tone to his voice nearly riling me until I remember both the situation I am in and the fact that he is Sam's grandson…but, what did he say?

I frown ever so slightly at his dialogue choice and notice him wincing in response; evidently, he didn't desire to share this information with me and yet he has done.

"He turned you into _what_, Michael?" I puzzle over the challenge in front of me, for he has a heartbeat so cannot be a vampire, yet he is evidently not human… "You have no need to fear me, child; I simply desire to know so I can perhaps offer words that could perhaps be construed as helpful," I continue, my voice softening slightly in an almost preparation to talk with Claire. I have not spoken to a young woman for many a year – what do I say? How do I phrase what I desire to say in terms that are not entirely alien to me, yet not at all contemporary for my daughter to understand?

He punches the wall so hard that it reverberates and I half expect it to fall in – but that would be near impossible for a human of Michael's physique. It makes no logical sense to me, for he appears to be neither human nor vampire…so what on _earth_ could he be?

"The first night that _he_ came to town, he followed me back here," Michael says with a shaking voice – whether the shaking is down to fear or anger, I cannot interpret. "He _bit_ me and tried…he tried to make me one of you. But he failed; he wasn't strong enough or something…and now I'm _this_ – I'm a ghost during the day, unable to be seen or heard, and yet at night I'm a fully functioning human with the only restriction of being bound to the house," he laughs a slightly harsh laugh, yet this is all background noise to the more pressing issues at hand here: firstly, there _is_ the paranormal of ghosts. Secondly, Oliver, on his return to Morganville, has _attempted__to__steal__my__power_! That is perhaps creeping into the uppermost five things he has done to me that are entirely unforgivable. However, I shall, for the moment, be forced to lay those to one side in order for him to explain his part – not in the biological sense of the matter – before taking action against him in a manner that shall not destroy the chance for a future relationship with our daughter.

"I…I see," I murmur, being unable to comment on how what I believe he ought to do for I am yet to come across a situation akin to this in my entire life. I understand not _how_ he has came to be a ghost; however, this is not the issue for this day – I need to speak with Claire as soon as she arrives back. "Michael, I do not know what I can say or what I could even perhaps do in order to assist you in this matter," I address him, shaking my head infinitesimally as I turn to look at him.

He shrugs and sits down opposite me, evidently not bothered about the fact that it is a known fact that others only sit in my presence when I desire them to. "I never expected you to be able to do anything. I just want to know why you're in my house and why you want _him_ in here as well."

Do I tell him? The decision is to be made presently is to ascertain whether I should, or should not, inform him of what I must tell the child I have – would she be happy if she were to discover that not only people pertinent to the situation knew of her parentage officially before her, but also her friend?

"If I were to tell you, Michael, I would be betraying the trust of Claire," I inform him in a steady tone, knowing that it is best for her to make her decision as to when she shares the details of her parentage. After all, she cannot hide it forever. "I am sure that you would feel the same way if…S…your grandfather was to share information significant to you with another first, would you not?" evidently, it is impossible for myself to utter Sam's name aloud, so I edit my sentence slightly to change the term I call him by, though instigating a long pause in the process.

Whilst suspicious looking, Michael nods slowly, averting his eyes from me. "And why does Oliver have to be here?" the contempt in his voice is evident through every syllable – he hates Oliver and, in the frankest way possible, I cannot blame him for this feeling.

"He…he is a pivotal character within this conversation we must have, one without whom I would be ill placed to explain what we must discuss," I attempt to explain in a way that indicates how vital it is for Oliver's presence during the meeting with Claire, yet in a way that is not entirely transparent to allow him to guess why he must be here.

"I'm going upstairs and if he even _mentions_ me, I want him gone," Michael breathes heavily as he stands up and moves towards the stairs. Before he starts to climb them, however, he turns back to me, his eyes blazing. "Know this, Amelie; if you hurt my friend, or my Grandad, you're the one who is to blame, not Oliver or whoever else you have hidden away in the wings to blame incase everything goes heads up. I will blame _you_," he stresses this point in a way that reminds me of my youth, when I was headstrong and utterly believed in standing up for the things I believed in.

That naive approach to life ended before I was even turned.

"You have my word that this shall not occur," I lie through my teeth, staring in his direction coolly as I wait for him to mount the stairs. Oliver must be inside the house before Claire returns and since she is not here and Michael has no idea as to her location, I cannot risk the possibility of her returning before he enters.

"Good," Michael replies flatly as he walks up the stairs. The moment his bedroom door slams shut, I am moving to open the front door and indicating to Oliver that he is perfectly adequate to enter the house now.

"You certainly took your time sorting that out," he grumbles as he enters, his "little secret" regarding Michael's failed turning attempt in the open. He shuts the door as I continue to stand there, unable to comprehend that he has actually said this to me, that he actually dares to insult myself when he has committed a form of high treason so severe, I could have him killed instantly.

"If you do not shut your mouth _this__instant_, I shall allow Michael to throw you out of the house," I reply in the calmest voice I can muster. "Claire shall have no need to know who you are to her, thus meaning that you are dispensable. And, as you know, dispensable items to me are disposed of…so think _very_ carefully before you continue to speak," the threat in my voice becomes more evident as I move through my almost speech, walking slowly over to the chair to seat myself once more as we wait for Claire.

He gulps audibly but nods, daring not to utter one other word, something for which I am more than thankful. Silence from Oliver is a blessed thing, for it occurs so sporadically.

…

We wait for almost an hour in near silence, the only comments being the exchange of the time. neither of the other housemates return either, and I begin to worry that the three of them went out for a meal or something equivalent, when the rattling of a key in an already open lock has me standing on my feet – her scent is strong now, fresh rather than the fading trails of her movement through the house this morning.

Oliver inclines his head towards me, almost asking confirmation that this is the correct housemate, when I nod impatiently.

"I'm home!" Claire yells through the house, turning on even more lights in what is most likely a safety mechanism – this is Morganville, home to vampires, after all. Yet she doesn't expect to see myself and Oliver sitting in the living room as she walks through, if her jump into midair is indicative of her expectations. "Who…who _are_ you?" she whispers in fear, running backwards into the wall in an attempt to protect herself.

Oliver begins to stand but I wave him off, realising that he is the more threatening of the two of us – in appearance, at least. I can only hope that she can allow me to explain rather than…will she recognise my voice.

"My name is Amelie," I speak in a slow and low voice, keeping it similar to what she would have heard through the door, so that if she has blocked out the memory as a hallucination, it will rise to the surface once more. "I mean no harm to you, Claire; in fact, I require to speak with you most desperately," I continue, watching her face eagerly for any signs of reaction to my words.

In the period of silence that reigns most ominously as I finish speaking, I see her brain connecting the two events, something which is confirmed by the gasp that escapes her throat and the way she instantly begins to attempt to move away further.

"I _heard_ you," she whispers, her eyes darting between Oliver and myself, as in deciding who the greater threat is. "You…you're _deluded_, the pair of you! I know who…my parents are Kathy and Robert Danvers, not…certainly not _you__people_!" she snaps, her voice breaking towards the end as tears begin to fall down her cheeks. She shakes her head vigorously, in an attempt (I presume) to validate the thoughts inside her own head.

I smile very slightly, shaking my head in a very different manner, one that can be identified as simply being a disagreement with her statement. With one hand, I wave Oliver forwards, hoping that he will remember that he is a vampire and that she is scared, so will not move quickly – a feat which he manages to achieve upon his own, which is almost the most remarkable thing of the day.

"Oh, little Claire," I whisper, continuing to look at her as she tries to stare at anything but the pair of us. "You know that it is the truth, that you share little, if any, resemblance with who you call your parents. It's been a doubt sheltered within your own mind for many a year as to whether you are their biological daughter…" I trail off, wondering if lying about this will get me the result that I desire or if I have simply made things worse by being too clever and attempting to think what my thoughts would have been if I were her.

Slowly but surely, her head lifts from the floor, her lower lip quivering, and she makes eye contact with me – I notice how she doesn't even glance at Oliver. "I suppose you're right," she agrees reluctantly, her voice a mumble. "This is just so _surreal_; I come to town and firstly there are vampires, now I'm...no, I'm sorry, I cannot accept what you're trying to say," she begins as if she is about to agree with us, yet by the end she is back to being the stubborn child I know she must be.

"Do you desire for me to spell out how this works, or will you just accept that you are what you are?" Oliver, of course, has to be the blunt one in the situation, even though he has been attempting to find a "mollycoddling" side to himself in the time elapsed since he found he has a child and now. Evidently all the soul searching has been a waste.

Instantly, the anger springs up on her face and she steps away from the wall, yet in a direction towards neither of us. She heads into the far corner and digs around in a drawer, pulling out a long piece of wood that I can only presume is a stake.

"Speak to me like that again," she whispers quietly to Oliver, her voice filled with menace. "And you won't have to worry about what _she_ will do to you; you'll have this through your heart before you can even blink." She refers to me in her statement, evidently having picked up upon the disdain I have for Oliver – she is perhaps the most perceptive sixteen year old that I have ever encountered in my existence.

He looks amazed at this turn of events, unable to accept that a girl could be threatening his life; I can see in him the desire to cross the room and kill her as he would with another human, one who was not his daughter. However, he manages to control himself, simply managing a half sarcastic smile. "My, you certainly have your Mother's bite," he makes the reference to myself in a way that is derogatory to only myself.

Her eyes narrow for a moment as she processes through what he has said before the defiant look on her face returns. "Shut the hell up; she's not my mother – she's a _vampire_!" she, of course, has picked up on my not being human. "Anyway, who the hell are you, anyway!" she snaps at Oliver, who looks more than slightly surprised at this question.

"I, young lady," he begins pompously in a manner that has me wincing ever so slightly, "Am your Father and you shall treat me with respect."

In all honesty, I cannot blame Claire's throwing of the stake across the room with such a well placed aim that it hits him square in the chest.

This could be a mightily long night.

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**Again, sorry for not updating.**

**Still, I hope this WAYY long chapter makes up for it a bit.**

**Review please? Thanks!**

**Vicky****xx**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17:**

**I'd almost forgotten about this story – I don't have any chapter written ahead for this and it's just when I get chance to write…which isn't something I have at the minute.**

**I'll update again as soon as possible, bearing in mind I have AS exams in the coming weeks that are a _lot_ more important.**

**I don't own anything**

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_Amelie's POV:_

My eyes close over slowly as Oliver falls to the floor, a noise that is barely muted by his clothing and sends waves of vibration through my ears. In all honesty, I worry for him: if he has been searching for weeks now to try and attempt the most humane, Fatherly esque way of being and _this_ is what he has came up with, he has no hope.

In opposition to this, however, I suppose that he has achieved not _extremely_ scaring her, as in he refrained from vampire speed and suppressed his true, hard self beneath what he presumed would be acceptable behaviour around a daughter who never knew of her birthright before today.

As I open my eyelids, I notice Claire's face turned towards me with an expression of mixed elation, anger and fear – fear that I shall punish her for harming one of my vampires because it is against my rules for Morganville to operate 'peacefully'. Yet she need not worry – whilst I am most wholeheartedly biased towards her, he was most certainly in the wrong, speaking to her as he did, and I truly cannot blame her for her actions.

"Amelie…" Oliver mutters my name, a core of boredom in his voice that I presume has confused Claire – for all she knew, the stake would burn Oliver to the perhaps point of death, if not removed hastily. Also, I suppose my reaction will have confused her, for she perhaps presumed that I would be on friendly terms with Oliver (if not even more, though the thought sickens me) and my lack of aid for him will not fit in with this presumption.

"You deserved that, Oliver," I sigh, remaining seated as he attempts to twist nearer to me. Claire continues to stand in the corner, defiant, and I am shocked to see she continues to be in the room, when she could have quite easily run. My only thought is that she knew we would catch her – this is Morganville, after all. "This is not the way to be, after all," I murmur this sentence so Claire cannot hear, my lips moving at such a pace it merely seems as if I am opening them slowly.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" Claire snaps suddenly, stepping forwards closer to _me_, something I did not expect. "I just _staked_ him and you don't give a damn."

I move my shoulders ever so slightly and rise: she is ever so slightly taller than myself, her shoulders wider and much more parallel with Oliver's strength. Yet there is a fragility within her features that I recognise from the mirror, a sense of her being able to be fractured without an issue.

"Oliver is no friend of mine," I explain as I step towards the body, his lack of speech now being merely because he cannot be bothered to talk, or has no retort for what I chastised him about earlier. "Things have always been strained between us, have they not, Oliver?"

He grunts slightly, not bothering to talk, though I can see the staking is perhaps beginning to take hold. I could leave it in and revel in the peace for perhaps three or four more hours, yet I do not suppose that this would be the wisest idea in regards to Claire, seeing her new-found Mother with such a blatant disregard for her Father. This would not aid my attempts to make her realise that I am much more humane (and Oliver, though perhaps this is a lost cause) than both she feels and than I truly am.

"Then why…?" I can see where she is coming from, as she asks this, a tone of disbelief in her voice: she wonders how she was conceived, if we evidently do not care for one another.

"Allies," Oliver begins slowly, having not heard Claire's statement – or it has not processed through to his violence obsessed mind as of yet. "We are allies, Claire; we fight together in the face of adversaries we both oppose, yet otherwise we merely…co-exist in relative peace."

"Naturally, you are excluding your attempted assassination of me in this statement," my voice is cold as I throw this in, kneeling by his head and resting one hand on the stake. I could, of course, push this in further and inflict further pain, perhaps even push him further towards death, yet I could also remove it and have no need to control him as it is removed, as I do with most vampires. He is strong and able to survive without my pushing of his mind.

"That came about because you controlled me!" he snaps, looking away from Claire entirely as he talks to me.

"You mean, I limited the bloodshed you inflicted upon London, so therefore decided you wanted to be the strongest, most powerful vampire in the world and attacked me, foolishly presuming that you were the second eldest," I reply in a bored tone, "for you forgot even about _Myrnin's_ existence, as well as Theo and all the other vampires who are older than you. Do not try and twist this around to suit _you,_ Oliver, as to why you acted, for that would merely be lies."

Claire clears her throat and I remember where we are and how, as per usual, Oliver and myself got caught off topic amidst our own arguing. This is usual for us: we never find common ground, merely oppose one another until I win through my authority and he crawls away to his hole once again to lick his wounds.

"Whilst it's interesting to know you're _both_ bloodthirsty monsters," she says, muttering "not that I didn't know that already," under her breath, "since you're here to bother _me_ with things you've probably just made up in your head, could we move back to that? As I don't fancy having to tell Michael or the others how there is a dead vampire on the floor."

Nodding slowly, I place my other hand on the stake and pull ever so slightly, feeling through my hands as it rises quickly out of his chest. There is no extreme reaction from Oliver as he remains upon the floor, merely breathing slightly more heavily as he evidently desires blood – yet he will not attack his daughter, I am sure of it. Something I shall guarantee, as I remove the small bottle of blood stored within my small handbag and pour it slowly into his mouth, hearing the noises of his swallowing as I can feel the healing of his body through the air. His strength and power, blazing fire in opposition to my ice, return to become near worthy of opposing mine, something that I suppose cannot be palpable to a human.

"It is not lies, Claire," I reply to her earlier statement as if I have not just saved Oliver from death, setting the stake aside upon Oliver's leg for I have no desire to be covered with his blood. "I have no desire to lie to you."

"Yes, do you _really_ think that I have so little to do that I can abide to both go _along_ with a façade ran by Amelie and play my part _this_ convincingly?" of course, Oliver is rude and abrupt, though I know I would be slightly more cranky if I had just been staked by my daughter.

Claire's eyebrows raise slightly, a look of disbelief spreading across her face. "You're a coffee shop owner, how the hell do I know?"

Once again having no retort to this statement that would not be _too_ scathing, Oliver falls silent, a deathly silence that makes me realise that, if Claire was not his daughter, she would be dead already.

"I can, if you so desire, arrange for these tests you can take nowadays to be completed to prove our kinship?" this is the only way I can find to be able to relay to her the truth of what I am trying to put forwards because she evidently will not just accept our word. She must have the scientific facts from Myrnin, if he is responsive enough to be able to complete this – if not, I shall recruit Theo once again.

She hesitates ever so slightly, her gaze dropping to Oliver's face, which is smoothed out into an approximation of a smile – the closest he ever seems to get to it. "Ok then," she grudgingly agrees. "I'll do that, if it means that you'll, like, leave _now_," I hear the approaching of a slowing car outside and presume that this is her friends and she does not desire for them to know of this relationship.

"Certainly," I answer, hoisting Oliver to his feet with a mere lift of a hand attached to his shoulder. "I shall arrange this and wait for you to complete your side," I continue, walking towards a portal I hastily summon, for whilst I did not want Oliver to be aware of them, it is more amiable than passing her friends on the way out.

"Whatever," she replies, her face drawn and white – I know that this revelation will be a great shock to her, something she perhaps will not be able to deal with, and I accept that.

Silently, Oliver and myself walk through the portal as the front door opens to the Glass House, her friends entering with their usual bantering.

"Amelie." Oliver says my name but I raise a hand to silence him, refraining from closing the portal door as yet, until Shane walks into the living room.

"Claire," he says my daughter's name with confusion in his voice. "You've managed to stake a vampire?" he bends down to pick up the stake that Oliver has _stupidly_ left behind – evidently, he needs to learn to listen!

"Yes…." Claire responds.

With a laugh, Shane replies, "Good on you."

I slam the portal shut with a bang.

"Well," Oliver says with another sense of boredom as he studies his nails. "_That_ went better than I thought."

This time, I _extremely_ desire to stake him myself.

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**Review, please.**

**Don't fav/alert without reviewing please & thanks.**

**Vicky xx**


	18. Chapter 18

**I don't own anything**

**Chapter 18:**

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_Amelie's POV:_

Having decided to wait a night before braving Myrnin's den, I head there the next morning, wondering whether or not he will be responsive to my demands of him, or if the disease will have claimed him irrefutably, not allowing me even a few minutes with my dearest friend to discuss what I desire him to do. I would much rather Myrnin conducted the tests, for whilst I would trust Theo with my health, if diseases could cause such harm to vampires, there are certain aspects to my private life that I would prefer remained within the confinements of my closest allies. Unfortunately, I must include Oliver in this, for he _is_ Claire's father, however much I wish it happened to be anything but the truth.

And so it is with a heavy heart that I summon the portal to Myrnin's laboratory, deigning not to alert my guards to my departure: Myrnin cannot hurt me, I am sure of it, even with his mental state being weaker than before, because there are differences in our strengths, not to mention his constraints from the disease. He feeds little now, compared to how gluttonous his consumption of blood was at the start of the disease, the effects becoming more confined to his mind, something which worries me, due to how he controls Ada. Yet I do not question him, on the rare occasion I can speak to him in a lucid manner, and he does not dare to question what decisions I make. Normally, at least.

The laboratory is more of a cluttered mess than the last time I saw it, the replaced equipment brought in when he was sedated last year lying disused in the corner, the preference being the old fashioned and damaged variations within the centre of the room. To the left, I spy the library, something which makes me almost want to cry, with the state of it; he doesn't care for these originals, these priceless copies which could be lost to the seas of time, if he does not care for them in a proper manner. If I had a chance, I would most certainly remove them – but he knows which books he has, on good days, and I could guarantee that his rage would allow him to find me, breaking through the defences I have set up around him. This is a smart man I am dealing with, after all, someone who has adapted to the modern day age of DNA and microscopes with fitted lights, in the midst of battling such a dehabilitating disease, and this cannot be forgotten.

"Hello, Amelie." His voice greets me, low and smooth as is customary for his being in a relatively sane mood. "What can I do for you today, given that we have not seen one another in a long time?" as I turn to look at him, his expression is carefully guarded, yet I can see the flickers of the monster within him in his eyes, see how hard he is battling to remain in the present, and I remember this as I reply.

"I have a request to make of you, Myrnin. I have not been, of late, as good quality a friend as I have been in the past, and for this I am truly humbled, yet I must ask you to do something for me," I try as hard as possible to ensure that he understands that this is a request, that he doesn't have to do it. The extra layer of not being a good friend to him is merely for his ego, something which ought to be boosted when he is actually sane. This is a rarity nowadays, as I have been informed from people who are employed to check on him, and I would value it lasting just a touch longer than usual.

"Yes, yes, what is it?" he sounds bored as he answers me, his gaze dropping from me to one of the many things upon the table closest to him. Once again, I resist the temptation to comment on his housekeeping, deigning that angering him would not gain me the results I desire.

"I have three DNA samples for you to run. I wish for you to confirm if the third is, in fact, constructed of the former two samples."

He laughs a laugh that worries me slightly; it is less like the Myrnin I have always known, more like the monster finding a way to be able to control him. It is deep and guttural, something sinister and foreboding, as though to hear it for too long would result in one's sanity being lost.

"You desire a parentage test," he simplifies what I desire, using a term that I have never heard before. "How very interesting. Is it…_ahh_, yes, I recall your prior issue, from all those years ago. Very well done, Amelie, to not mention it, and to leave me to forget all about it in the midst of time; how _is_ your child?"

I sigh, realising that he is right: I have not mentioned Claire once throughout the last sixteen years or so, and he has had no reason to bring her up himself, on the odd chance he may have recollected her existence. "She is well, thank you, having just returned to me for the compulsory period of time she had to spend away from me. However, she does not believe that I am her mother, or that Oliver is her father, though I can understand with the latter part of her disbelief, no matter how many times I try to prove it to her. She is a scientist, like yourself, and wants proof of these facts in a way she understands."

"And so she wants a parentage test?"

"Yes. I see no reason why she should not, if it allows a chance for her to understand where she comes from. Do you agree?"

Once finishing, I stand and wait for him to come to a conclusion, wondering whether or not he will deign to do as I desire, or not. If the beast takes control, I doubt he will, yet if he remains able to make his own decisions…I am hopeful.

"I do," he says slowly, his eyebrows crinkling together slightly. "I agree that she does need to know. You say she is a scientist? If she is, I will complete this test for you, forgoing my work for the day, if you allow her to work with me, here, to find a cure for the disease. Otherwise, there is no point in her knowing where she comes from. She would merely have parents who disintegrate into nothing, in the end."

He desires my daughter to use as an assistant in here, an assistant to him in his mood swings that could lead to her death, if she couldn't get away fast enough. I don't know whether or not he is joking, yet he is lacking the usual edge to his voice that tells me he does not really want something: he _does_ want this. He wants Claire to become his new assistant, become the person who, in his entire history of the disease, he has ultimately killed for their brainpower.

I could…I could allow her to come, yet with an escort, something no other assistant has had before. If it means that he concludes the findings today, and Claire knows we are her parents, I will accept her coming here, even if it brings the risk of death. After all, without this cure, there would have been no point in destroying her entire life history, given that we will perish, succumbing to the disease, within the next few years: calculations have led me to believe that there are perhaps ten years left. Ten years for us all to become something we are only on the inside.

"Then we have come to an arrangement, Myrnin," I manage to smile, yet my face feels lifeless, because of what I'm doing. "In exchange for you running these tests, Claire will become your new assistant. She will start soon."

I set the DNA samples on the table and walk away slowly through the portal, senses alert on the off chance that Myrnin would lose control and allow himself to attack me, before shutting the portal with a soft _click_. From here, I move through to my small living room and sit on the sofa, closing my eyes as I realise what I have just done. I've allowed myself to sign my daughter's death warrant, effectively.

Because just _how_ many of Myrnin's assistants make it out alive?

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**Vicky xx**


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